If Tomorrow Never Comes
by Kadi219
Summary: Raydor/Flynn - Sequel to Simplicity and Tomorrow. A dark cloud is hanging over their heads. The nightmare hasn't quite ended yet. What could happen if Stroh did return?
1. Chapter 1

**If Tomorrow Never Comes**

**by Kadi**

**Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **It's not my sandbox, and they're not my toys... I just really love playing there!

**A/N:** This is the sequel to _Simplicity and Tomorrow_. I think we're all wondering where Stroh went and what will happen if or when he returns. There was a warning in Special Master Part 2 when Burning Man stated that Stroh doesn't leave witnesses behind. This makes me believe that he _will_ be back eventually.

**Warning:** There is some violence in later chapters, nothing more intense than we've seen on screen, but do be advised.

As always, special thank you to my beta **deenikn8** who always goes above and beyond! Any errors remaining are all mine. Also, special thank you to my twin partner in crime **kate04us** who listened to this idea and helped me search google maps of Los Angeles for landmarks for more realistic &amp; logical story flow! You rock!

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**Chapter 1**

The heat and humidity from the shower still lingered in the air, making the bathroom warm, but not uncomfortably. The door leading into the bedroom was open, allowing cooler air in. It wafted over his skin, an enticing contrast to the flush left behind from the shower's heat. He'd heard the blow dryer stop, and a small smile curved his lips as a few moments later, he felt a hand sliding across his back. Sharon eased passed him, and the dryer was placed back on the rack beside the vanity. His eyes found her in the mirror, lingered over her form.

He had seen her in any number of outfits, suits and dresses, formal attire and the casual jeans she liked to trot out on weekends. They had been through several selections from her lingerie drawer, and there was even a powder blue nighty that was his favorite. He wondered, however briefly, if it was a sign that he was getting old or even a bit stayed in this, the back end of middle age, that the sexiest thing he'd ever seen her wear was one of his own plain, white, v-neck t-shirts. It was clinging to every curve in a way that made his heart beat a little faster. The hem barely reached her thighs, and he knew, without having to look or even guess, that there wasn't a thing on underneath it.

Their eyes met in the mirror. He watched the smile that tugged her lips upward, enjoyed the way it reached her eyes, until the green sparkled and they crinkled at the corners. Her hand dipped lower across his bare back, and her fingers brushed at the edge of the towel that was draped around his waist. They had shared the shower, and while she dried her hair, he had taken his turn in front of the vanity. Even now, he stood, still in only the towel, a can of shaving cream in one hand while he had contemplated shaving or waiting until morning.

While their gazes held, Sharon leaned into his side. The soft press of her breasts against his arm made his skin tingle. Her fingers danced across his wrist, until they wrapped around the cool aluminum of the can of shaving cream. She tugged it out of his hand, and then she pressed him backward as she turned and slid in between him and the smooth edge of the vanity. Andy's hands dropped, and settled against her waist, only to slide lower, over her hips to her thighs. He lifted, even as she leaned back, and eased her onto the cool, marble surface.

His hands slid along her thighs as he moved between them, fingers gentle against the smooth, bare skin. Her intake of breath as his head bent, to let his lips brush the familiar curve of her cheek, had warmth settling inside his chest. Between them, and only slightly muffled by the close proximity of their bodies, he heard the sound of the cream being squeezed into her hand. Andy straightened, and leaned back just a bit. Her eyes were on his again, and glittering with emotion as, in silence, she coated the fingers of one hand in the thick, white substance.

She smoothed it over his cheeks and neck, a quiet hum filling the otherwise silent room as she went about her task. It was simple, familiar, this intimacy. His hands continued to caress the outsides of her thighs, even when she lifted his razor and leaned toward him. The scent of her shampoo mingled with the moisturizer that he knew she applied to her skin every night and every morning, as though she didn't know just how beautiful she was, even without her little rituals.

Andy smiled as his eyes moved over her. He watched the play of the light in her hair, and the way it caught the colors. It shimmered in hues of brown and gold, red in some lights. He knew that she saw her hair dresser, every five weeks and without fail, and he had come to mark the signs of when she would be seeing him again. It had only been a couple of weeks since the last visit. Andy looked forward to those few days leading up to an appointment. She didn't believe him when he told her that he thought the tiny bit of gray that showed at her temples during those few days was sexy as hell. She would laugh, push him away from her. Still, her cheeks would color with delight, and her eyes would light with joy.

By now there was not a part of her body that he did not know. He knew that as his hands moved toward her knees, and his fingers slid behind them, that her breath would catch again. He watched her draw her bottom lip between her teeth, and knew that it was as much in reaction to him as it was in concentration, even as the razor touched his skin. He held still for her, only his eyes and his hands moving. His gaze caressed her face, from the lines at the corners of her eyes, to those around her mouth. Beneath the lights overhead, their was a glow to her skin. Her make up was a memory now, after the shower, and the lines were far more prominent. So too were the freckles that dotted her nose.

She was a woman of fifty-six, but even without the cosmetics that usually painted her face, he thought she could pass for younger. Here, in these walls, in these rooms, there was no concealer, no artificial color, or age defying cream. She was still the loveliest creature he had ever seen. His eyes tracked lower, while the razor moved across his skin. He grinned a bit, when she reached to the side to flick it beneath the faucet. The t-shirt stretched, and gave him an enticing view. When she straightened again, he watched the v-neck dip, and offer him a glimpse at her cleavage. Unbound and unrestrained, and after two children, he knew that she wasn't a super model, but thoughts of what he would like to be doing to her had heat coursing through his body.

Repetitive movements, the feel of the cool metal of the razor against his skin, the sound it made as it moved against him, it was all background noise. He was filled with her, the sight, scents, the sounds of her soft sighs and low hums. There was nothing but her for him. She was always with him. There in the back of his mind, when he drove to work, when he was sitting at his desk, when he looked for sense in the horror of their crime scenes. He learned, well before their relationship made the turn from platonic to something far more personal and romantic how to separate thoughts of Sharon from the thoughts he should be entertaining throughout the course of his day. There were times when he allowed them to warm him through, to provide light in the dark, to give calm to the fury. Then there were the moments when they were alone, when he could let her fill him completely, until the heat seared and the emotion made his heart swell near to bursting.

She was seated on the vanity in front of him, wearing a plain cotton t-shirt, not a scrap of makeup covering her face, while she quietly shaved him. His hands had not strayed beyond gently caressing her thighs. There was not a part of her body he'd not had his hands or mouth on over the course of the last several months, and yet there was nothing more intimate, more enticing to him, than the quiet moments like these, when he wanted her simply because she was there, and simply because she was Sharon, and especially because he loved her.

He had seen her wear any number of masks over the years, and specifically over the last several months. He had come to know them well, and thought that, by now, he could recognize each one. It was always her eyes that gave her away, though. It didn't matter which face he was looking into, or where they were, she couldn't hide completely, not from him. He had been witness to the Captain and the officer. Those were masks that he knew well. She wore them like a shield, a blanket to protect the woman beneath. He had seen the friend, and the lover, but it was the woman beneath all of them that he knew best. Andy felt her grow still in front of him a second before he recognized the sound of the front door opening and closing. Her hand was poised beside his face, and beneath his hands, settled as they were now against her hips, he felt the stirrings of a faint tremor. The shift in the colors of her eyes, from pale jade to deep moss, and the slight parting of her lips as she drew a breath and held it. This was the mother. She was fierce, and she was protective, and she was worried. She was always underneath the surface of every moment, always waiting.

There was a dark cloud hanging over their heads. They could try to approach life as though each day was normal and new. They could live and they could love; they could go to work while Rusty went to school, but it was always there, the darkness. It lurked in the shadows, always a breath away, teasing them, laughing at their pitiful attempts at a life that was, for the moment, a little less pleasant than they would like to believe.

He held her gaze. His hands slid up to her waist in a simple caress. It was not until a familiar voice rang through the apartment that he felt her relax again. The simple, "_I__'__m home_." Was enough to have her breathing again. Andy watched the worry recede, although it would not fade. It would only be hidden away, but it was never gone, and it was never forgotten. He watched the colors in her eyes shift again, lighter, happier. Her leg lifted, curled around his hips and drew him closer. Her gaze shifted, back to her task, and he felt the cool metal of the blade settle against his skin again.

The exchange had taken only a moment, the space of a single breath, but it was enough to remind them that try as they did, their lives were not exactly normal these days.

That dark cloud had come in the form of a madman. They all lived now with a sense of fear. Phillip Stroh was walking free, somewhere in this world, and they were left to wonder if or _when_ they would ever face him again. Sharon spent her days worried about her son. She fretted over his safety every moment that he was not in her presence. But it was not only his safety that she prayed for at night. It was his forgiveness.

Rusty had not wanted a security detail. He did not want to live in a prison. He wanted the freedom to live his life. They were giving him that, in so much as they could. What Rusty didn't know was that the matter was not entirely in Sharon's hands, and even if it had been, Andy could not imagine that she would have laid down and rolled over on those demands. She would have arranged security for him anyway, whether he liked it or not. In the end, Sharon wasn't given a choice. It came from over her head, and she embraced it, gladly, even as it impeded on the privacy of her own life.

It was the County that had lost Stroh, but all agreed that it didn't exactly look great for the LAPD either. Chief Taylor was aware that it didn't exactly reflect well on him, and especially with the lives of his officers threatened. Then there was Deputy Chief Howard, who they all could agree had a bit of a personal stake in capturing Stroh. After all, the man had threatened his wife. He had come into their home and tried to kill her. So when Howard requested the breathing room in the budget to provide security for Rusty, Taylor caved. After all, he wasn't a complete fool, and they knew, all of them knew, Sharon would put herself between Rusty and Stroh at any cost, and ultimately it was two lives in danger. That was Andy's own personal fear. It was his own personal hell. While everyone was most worried for Rusty, and with good reason, he knew that Stroh was smart. He might be a psychopath, but he was an intelligent one. He would come for Sharon first. He would remove her, and his path to Rusty would be much simpler.

It was why he hadn't blinked, and he hadn't complained, when Sharon told him what they had planned for Rusty's security. SOB was taking over, and with Rusty's security, they were also taking over the hunt for Stroh. The security in her building had been upgraded. The building owners hadn't blinked, not when the City offered to pay for half of it. There were better cameras now in the parking garage and lobby. Surveillance had been added to the elevators and stair wells, and on the eleventh floor, there was a camera that watched the hall. It caught all the comings and goings from Sharon's Condo. Even with the added budget, they didn't have the man hours or the money to pay someone to sit and watch every minute of camera footage. So it was all fed through a database, scanned with facial recognition software. If Stroh entered the building, an alert would go up.

In the meantime, there were officers on Rusty. He just didn't know it. All agreed that it was better for him this way. They didn't have to worry that he would give them the slip, and his movements would be more normal, more casual, if he wasn't aware of the presence of his SIS tail. He was never without someone watching him, and the rotation was constant. McGinnis had chosen the best that she could spare. Even Lieutenant Cooper had worked his way into the rotation. He watched Rusty a couple of days a week, and it didn't take a genius to know he was doing that as a favor for Sykes, as much as he was doing it for Sharon. He still felt a little guilty about missing Weller the previous year.

It helped. All of the surveillance and the security rotation. It made life a little more manageable. Sharon could sleep, just not well. She could breathe, but Andy knew that she never fully relaxed, not until she laid eyes on him again. Those moments only came when Rusty stopped by the Murder Room, or when he was home for the evening. She would never fully rest easy, not until Stroh was behind bars again, but this gave them room to breathe. It gave them room to live.

Life did go on. Rusty was right about that much. They still had cases to work. He had classes to study for. He was finished with his first semester of college now. He had gone back to work, not at _Badge of Justice_, but a friend he'd met while working on that show was working on a movie. He got Rusty hired for the summer. The movie was scheduled to wrap a week after fall classes began. Rusty was planning to shuffle the two. He could do it for a few days, he said. He was happy, and he was excited. For once Sharon didn't argue that school was more important. He was living. That was something that she was holding onto with both hands.

Rusty's was not the only life that kept moving. Even the dark pall of Stroh could not completely spoil the depth of his feelings for her. January was hard for them. Sharon was preoccupied, and rightly so. He held on. Andy continued to be there for her. He continued to hold her, and when she tried to retreat into herself, he held her even tighter. February was kinder. By then the security and the upgrades to the cameras in Sharon's building were in place. She could sleep again, and she began to look a little less drawn. She began to allow herself to venture back into her own life, no longer as frightened that by taking her eyes off Rusty, she was letting him go. She let herself feel again. Sleeping with Andy had become second nature. He spent more nights with her than he did alone. But sleep was all that they had done. In the dark, when she couldn't hide from her fears anymore, when the tears could no longer be ignored, she had pulled his arms around her and settled in his embrace. She wore him like a blanket, like a shield, and let him chase away the cold.

The ebb and flow of their relationship could not be planned. It could not be harnessed nor could it be explained. They were not prone to grand gestures or moments of fancy. The first time that they made love was in the early morning hours of a normal, ordinary Tuesday. The need had been there. So had the want. But there had been other things on their minds. They'd had other concerns and worries. All he had wanted was for her to be safe.

They weren't kids anymore. They realized that they had more life behind them than in front of them. It was why they were no longer trying to deny the inevitable. Chances like this did not come around often in a single lifetime, and certainly not at this stage in their lives. There were those that might argue that they were too old to begin anew, to start a new relationship, to begin sharing what remained of their lives with another. Those were thoughts they had both had, it was a discussion they had engaged in some months ago. What they learned, what they knew, was that some forces were beyond their control. Whether they were together or apart, they would love anyway. It was an emotion that was beyond their control. They had, through the long months of their _friendship_, touched one another's hearts. They were drawn together beyond all sense and thought, and there was a deeper need that could not be denied. They were happier _together_. They were _stronger_ together.

In March she told him that she loved him. She gave voice to words, to thoughts that were already well known. They were on a date that night, and it was a mild, comfortably temperate evening. They had gone to a movie, and then rather than driving home, because they both knew that Rusty was well watched and secure, they had driven out to the Santa Monica boardwalk. He held her, danced with her beneath the moonlight, with the sound of the waves and some distant song playing in the background. The words were spoken quietly, whispered against his ear as they swayed together. It was an acknowledgement that they were moving in the same direction.

They were, neither of them, overly demonstrative people. There were few people, outside of their families, who knew that they were together. It wasn't shame, and it wasn't a secret. It was simply a matter of privacy. Much of Sharon's life was now on display, with the added security that now surrounded her due to Stroh's escape. She reported the nature of their relationship to Taylor and Human Resources, as was required of them, and Andy had sat in front of an HR rep and answered questions that he was neither coerced nor did he feel in anyway harassed by his relationship with his superior.

It hadn't gone any farther than that. Andy no longer spoke to Provenza about his relationship with Sharon. He didn't want to hear the other man's complaints or opinions on it. They had been partners for a long time, and if that was going to continue, Andy recognized that there were some things they simply should not discuss. Sharon was at the top of that list. So Andy did not tell him that they were together. He did not tell him that he was spending more nights with Sharon than he was at home. When Sharon gave him a key in April, he didn't mention that either. If Provenza or any of the others knew about them, they never said. They kept their relationship out of the workplace.

It surprised him that it hadn't come up. Andy found it amusing that all the time they spent, the two of them, worrying how their relationship would be viewed by those around them had amounted to nothing. _If_ their colleagues knew about them, they simply didn't care. Neither did HR, and Taylor found it more comical than worrisome.

"_Finally, someone who can keep him in line_."

Andy could admit that he didn't exactly like the man, but he had a point. Not because Sharon was doing anything overt about his behavior, either on or off the job, but there was something about her that made those who worked for her want to be better. She made _him_ want to be better. Hell, even Provenza was on his best behavior most days, and Julio, recently back from suspension, was walking a fine line.

Of course, Provenza had reasons of his own to be on his best behavior. He was spending more and more time with Patrice outside of the office. Andy had a feeling that could be why he hadn't, yet, clued in to what was going on with Sharon… or if anything, why he hadn't commented on it. When they did spend time together, he and his partner, they either left from the office, or they met up wherever they were going. In hindsight, it was damned funny, the way things worked out. In May, when he moved in with Sharon, no one had seemed to notice.

They blended their homes as easily as they blended their lives. It was simple, and it was seamless. Andy didn't need much beyond his clothes, a couple of bookshelves, a dresser, and his recliner. They went through both residences. They decided what they were keeping, and the rest was donated, sold, or thrown away. Much of his furniture was in storage. He sold the bungalow, and it had gone faster than he imagined it would. Now, Sharon's condo was on the market, and they were looking for a place that would be _theirs_. Something with enough room for the kids and the grandkids, but not so large that it would feel empty after Rusty moved away. It wasn't a thought she liked to entertain often, but someday, preferably after Stroh was behind bars again, or dead, Rusty would leave the nest that she created for him. He would find his place in the world, just as her other children had done. This time, however, she wouldn't be left alone. They would need room for Rusty to visit. For Ricky, and Emily, and any of the grandchildren that might someday enter this world. They needed room for Nicole and Dean, and their children, for his son Daniel, and whomever he may bring into their lives.

Andy's thoughts were brought back to the present when Sharon lifted a towel and wiped away the remaining traces of shaving cream from his face. He lifted her, and allowed his mouth to settle over hers as they turned to enter the bedroom. Her arms wound around his neck, and her legs around his waist, as they moved toward the bed. His towel was dropped, forgotten, as they settled on the bed. It was neither his, nor hers, but theirs.

There was a dark cloud hanging over their heads, but they had learned to find the light. They were living in it. They were loving in it.

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

Lazy and casual Saturdays were few and far between. They didn't come around very often, and when they did, they were to be indulged in. More often then they would like to admit, their weekends were spent working. Other times, it was spent with the family. As spring settled upon them, the weekend was spent with Nicole, Dean and the boys. There had been a couple of Saturdays spent at baseball games, one that he had gone to with Daniel, and others that involved larger groups. The whole family had gone to see the Giants and the Dodgers face off. Sharon and Dean were both Giants fans, and by extension, so were their children. Andy was trying very hard to not hold that against either of them. It made for an interesting afternoon. Ricky had been in town for that game, and although Rusty knew very little about baseball, he had tagged along. He had fun just watching the antics. Sharon and Andy had argued all the way to the game, throughout most of the game, and all the way home. Not _really_ arguing, but in that way that was all fun and games, especially with their kids egging them on, in that way that Nicole and Ricky liked to do.

For Mother's Day, Ricky and Emily had both flown in for the weekend so that they, along with Rusty, could to take their mother to dinner and a show. Sharon had even received a card from Nicole, exclaiming _Best Step Mom ever! Hint-hint dad! _It kept finding its way to being displayed with a magnet on the front of the refrigerator. Andy knew that it was Rusty who kept digging it out, and after the first few times that he or Sharon took it down, they just left it up. It wasn't that they didn't want to marry, but they weren't going to be rushed into anything, and certainly not by their children. They were living together, and they were looking for a home together. Whatever was left of the rest of their lives, they had every intention of spending it together. It was enough for them.

For a rainy Saturday in early June, paying bills seemed an appropriate use of time. The morning had been spent on errands, picking up the dry cleaning and making a quick trip to the grocery store. While Sharon put away the groceries, Andy sat down with his computer. His feet were propped up on the coffee table as he flipped through a stack of household bills, made the payments online, and updated their joint, household account. It was a chore they usually shared, completed by whoever got to it first. Since Sharon was in a mood to putter around in the kitchen, and Andy could pay bills while listening to the game on TV, he decided to get it out of the way.

A deposit into the account drew his immediate attention, however. He studied it for a moment, and then he craned his head around to look into the kitchen. "Sharon."

There was something in his tone. Questioning, but slightly cautious too. He was trying to approach something very carefully, but there was an edge, something in it that made her brows lift as she turned away from contemplating whether or not she felt like spending the afternoon cooking. Her lips pursed, they'd done a lot of ordering out lately, and what was the point of doing the week's grocery shopping if they were just going to have takeout again. Besides, it was raining, and she didn't feel particularly like going out again. Also, Rusty was working today. He would be on set until later in the evening. It was just the two of them. It was a rare opportunity to spend the day curled up together on the sofa. Provided that neither of their phones rang. When she considered the overtime that she had submitted recently, she had a feeling they wouldn't. Taylor had Robbery Homicide covering the weekend. Sharon was going to take advantage of it.

She pulled a cookbook from the corner she kept them in and carried it to the bar. She leaned against it and glanced into the living room. She met his gaze, and realized that his was being kept carefully curious. Her head tilted in askance. Andy could be such a moody creature. She loved that about him. That with his passionate nature, she never had to question what he was feeling. It was there for her, she only had to reach out and engage it. She did so now, but with caution, until she knew what had him riled. "Yes?"

His dark eyes were focused entirely upon her. He watched her gaze lower as she flipped through a cookbook. She was listening to him and contemplating cooking too. That could bode well. It depended entirely on how she answered his next question. "Want to tell me how seventy-five thousand ended up floating around in the household account?"

"Hm." She hummed as she leaned forward on the bar, settled her chin in her hand. "I moved some things around. Since we decided to keep looking at properties and not wait until we sell the condo, I moved some money out of savings and into the escrow account. While I was at it, I dropped some money into the joint account."

They all had access to that account. It was used for bill paying, groceries, and the like. Rusty didn't like using it, but after living with Sharon for a few years, he'd gotten over complaining about it. They each had their personal accounts, checking and savings, but the joint account was for the family. It was a habit of Sharon's going back to when her older children had been younger and still living at home. It was responsible, and it made sense. Andy understood it, it made combining their lives, and their homes, a lot simpler. As Sharon spoke, he took a look at the escrow account. They'd set it up with the sale of his bungalow, it was for the purchase of their new place. Andy stared at the dollar amount, and checked the deposit she had made.

"_Sharon_."

There was a definite warning in his tone. She sighed. This time she straightened and looked at him. "Yes?"

"How the hell did you just manage to have two hundred thousand just laying around in savings?" They hadn't really discussed finances before, except in the most responsible sense of how they would combine them now that they were living together. They didn't talk about personal savings, or how much they got paid, and he supposed that he had taken it for granted that she was living on a Captain's salary. Now, as he stared at her, some things were beginning to click into place. Her shopping habits, and the way that she owned the condo outright, rather than leasing it.

"It's gratifying to know that you're not with me because of my money," she drawled. There was a smile playing at her lips. Sharon turned her attention back to the cookbook in front of her. His frustrated growl made her want to giggle. She wisely swallowed it. He could be such a chauvinist. The saying _you can__'__t teach an old dog new tricks_ came to mind, and she hummed rather than laughing. Sharon shook her head, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, since you're asking," She said, stating it in a way that made it clear she was being patient with him, and he should really tread carefully. His grunt made her bottom lip tremble with amusement. "My parents started trust funds for each of us when we were born. When I married Jack, and refused to make him sign a prenup, they froze mine. They wanted to make sure that it was me that he wanted. We married young, and when I realized just how hard marriage could be, I understood their reasoning. After we were legally separated, they released it again. It wasn't much," she waved a hand through the air. "They expected each of us to go to good colleges, and the trust funds were to help us get established afterward. My sister, Victoria, used hers to pay for medical school. Michael," she said of her brother, "opened his law firm. I paid off all of the debts that Jack created with his gambling, paid off the house, sent the kids to private school, and invested the rest."

As she spoke, she continued to flip through the cookbook, occasionally wrinkling her nose, or marking a page if she thought she might come back to it. "When the kids left for college, I was able to pay for their tuition with my returns and a couple of liquidations, but the house was just too big for one person alone. Even with them coming home on holidays it felt too big, and it didn't help that Jack's name was still on the title, so I sold it. He got his part, for signing off on the sale, and what I didn't use for the purchase of the condo, I invested. When Rusty and I were talking about colleges, I liquidated a couple of them for tuition. The money has been sitting in savings." She looked up, and rolled her eyes. "Since he insists on using financial aid and going to Community College, the money was just sitting there. I was going put it back, but then you and I started talking about buying a place together, and…" She shrugged, waved her hand again. "There you have it."

He made a face at her. How she could be so casual and just a little bit airy about something like that, he didn't know. It was just so Sharon, though, that Andy rolled his eyes at her. He fought the urge to grin. "You couldn't mention it before?"

She laughed at his grumbling this time. Sharon tossed her hair back and looked at him, eyes sparkling. "Honestly, I never think about it, Andy. I'm not _loaded_, I'm smart. I had to be, with Jack around. I never knew when he was going to throw us into debt again. I had to make sure that my kids were taken care of. Honestly, seventy-five thousand is a bit much for the household account, but Rusty's car is about to die, and since he needs a way to get back and forth to work, and school when his classes start again in the fall, he's actually going to _allow_ me to replace it." Technically, the car was hers, but they all thought of it as Rusty's now, since he was the one who drove it. Sharon hadn't lied to Rios the previous year. Historically, she did keep a second car for when her kids visited, but as they got older, their visits became less frequent, and now that there were three of them, renting a car was more convenient than sharing the one. Sharon shrugged at him. "I made the funds available so that he can pick something out, and whichever one of us happens to be with him at the time, can make the purchase."

He sniffed at her. Because he could, and because she was laughing at him. He scowled at her again when she told him what the money was for. "You're giving a nineteen year old _seventy-five thousand_ to buy a car?" Now he wasn't really sure that she was making a lot of sense. Not anymore. "Sharon, _really_?" Just when she had him convinced that she was just financially responsible, he changed his mind again. He was beginning to think that she was insane.

Her eyes narrowed. Sharon picked up a dishtowel and threw it at his head. "You're a stubborn ass, you know that?" She made a face at him. "Originally, I was going to give him the downpayment. Now is the time for him to establish credit and whatever, but with everything else…" She trailed off, not wanting to bring Stroh into their conversation, but he was, as always, hanging over their heads. "I need him driving something reliable, and I don't want him worried about working while he should be studying. So yes, _Andrew_, I am giving the nineteen year old seventy-five thousand to buy a car, not that I expect he will use _all_ of it. Whatever is leftover can be moved into the escrow account."

He closed the laptop and placed it aside. Andy stood up and retrieved the dishtowel from where it landed, on the sofa beside him. He walked into the kitchen and stood over her, a brow lifted. He dropped the towel onto the bar in front of her. He braced his hand against the bar and leaned against it. "So, maybe, I don't know… you couldn't just say, Hey Andy, don't flip out, I'm liquidating some investments and putting money in the joint accounts for Rusty's new car and the move?"

She turned to face him. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned her hip against the bar, much as he was doing. Sharon arched a brow at him. Her eyes sparkled, while her lips pressed together as she considered his statement. "Okay," she said at length. "Andy, don't flip out I'm liquidating—" She trailed off with a squeak when he lifted her.

Andy sat her on the bar and moved to stand between her legs. "We should really work on your communication skills," he said.

"Hm." She hummed thoughtfully. Her hands settled against his shoulders. "Says the brooding, moody man who almost started a fight with his chauvinism."

He pouted at her. "I am not moody."

This time, she did giggle. It didn't go unnoticed by Sharon that he didn't deny his brooding or his occasional bouts of chauvinistic behavior. "Of course not, honey." She shook with silent laughter as her arms moved around his neck. She leaned in to kiss the pout away. "So are we done, or do you actually want to fight. I can give it some volume," she teased.

His fingers danced along her sides until she squirmed. "I'm thinking about it. We can actually go for the fight, and then there's the making up, but I doubt you'll feel like cooking after… or we can skip the fight, makeup anyway, and maybe you'll feel like cooking, or…" He moved his hands into her hair and dropped a kiss to her laughing mouth. The sound of it, the truly, carefree lilt of Sharon's laughter, it was rarer these days than before Stroh's escape. It was something to be enjoyed, just a little bit more. They did argue, occasionally, as much as any couple did and about the usual things. Wet towels on the floor beside the hamper, whose turn it was to pick up the dry cleaning, and whether or not his television was going in the bedroom or into storage. They were still learning how to live together, it had only been a few weeks since he moved in. He decided to mark this one in the learning column and give them both a pass.

He kissed her again before moving away from her. Sharon hummed as she slid down off the counter. She turned and let her attention move back to the cookbook. His arms moved around her from behind, she settled against him with a smile. Her hand lay over his where it rested against her middle. She flipped a page in the book with the other. It was still new, this life of theirs, but it was comfortable, and she was happy in it. She chuckled quietly as she thought about the card that was posted to the front of the refrigerator. "According to the kids, you should be thinking less about what I'm spending money on, and more about what you're supposed to be buying."

Andy groaned. He turned his face into her neck. "Damned kids and their damned diamonds," he grumbled, but he was smiling against her neck, and he felt her shake with quiet laughter. Nicole had started it. She had gotten Ricky involved. Now every time she called, Emily asked if there was anything that she needed to know. Daniel had decided to completely forego being subtle. He just called her Mom. Andy decided Rusty was his favorite. He was the only one not involved, at least not openly. The way the teenager saw it, they would do it or they wouldn't, and he didn't really care one way or the other. As long as everyone was happy and he didn't have to _see_ anything, he was good with it. Yep, Andy thought, definitely his favorite. Maybe seventy-five thousand wasn't so much for a car after all.

Not that they hadn't thought about it. Or talked about it. He wanted her. For the rest of his life, he wanted Sharon in his arms and by his side, but she hadn't even been divorced for a year, and it didn't matter how long she was separated before that. Divorce was a big step, especially for her. He understood that, and he respected it. Hell, he had been divorced for twenty years, and was only now thinking about getting married again for the first time since the papers were signed. It was a big decision. Andy didn't need a piece of paper with their names on it to know that he loved her, or that she felt the same way.

It was one of those advantages that came with age, he thought. Just like they hadn't needed sex at the beginning to know how they felt about each other, they didn't need marriage now to know how they wanted the rest of their lives to play out. Although, at the same time, neither of them was foolish. They were aging, and they didn't exactly have desk jobs. Their work could be dangerous, and there were things that they could do, legally, to give the other advantages in a situation where one of them was hurt… or worse… but they also both had families that were independent of each other. Their children might like each other, and may like them, but they were still getting to know one another too, and in the event of an emergency or tragedy, they couldn't know how any one of them might respond. Just as Sharon had wanted to give Rusty the stability of a family, they both knew that at some point, legally, they would want to bind their lives together.

For now, it had given way to a family joke. A first, among what they hoped would be many as they pulled all the parts of their lives together.

His lips moved against her ear. His nose nuzzled her hair. "What were you thinking of making?"

She hummed again. Her head tilted, giving him access. When his hand slipped beneath her t-shirt to splay against her stomach, she drew a breath and gave it a pat. "I'm not sure. The vegetarian thing is a challenge," she drawled, "but I'll keep you anyway."

He snorted quietly at her teasing. "Good to know." He kissed the side of her head as he pulled away. They had all day to play. He would shelve his current thoughts for what he'd like to do to her until later. Andy moved to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. "Make what you want. If there's meat, I can work around it."

"I know." He never complained, but she always tried to take his preferences into consideration. They managed quite well, she thought. "The thing is, we like a lot of the same things, and I'm not entirely sure what I'm in the mood for yet."

He watched her lips curve into a saucy smile, while her eyes sparkled. Andy smirked at her. "I thought I was the moody one?" He walked back over and leaned against her back. His hands settled against the counter, on either side of her. Then he reached for the book and flipped a couple of pages. A loud clap of thunder that seemed directly over head made them both jump a bit. The lights in the apartment flickered. Andy arched a brow. "Sandwiches could be good."

"You could be on to something." Sharon closed the cookbook and slid it aside. Thunder rumbled over head again. "I'll get some candles out, just in case. You should probably finish what you were doing." She turned in his arms, leaned up to kiss him before sliding around him. She stopped, half way across the kitchen and turned back. "Andy, if the electricity goes out…"

If he got the opportunity to shoot the bastard, Andy thought, he would put a bullet right between Stroh's eyes. They couldn't even enjoy the simplicity of a rare, summer storm. She was busy worrying about what would happen if the cameras throughout the building and parking garage went down. If Stroh would use _this_ as his moment. If he was even still in town. It wasn't likely, but they weren't risking it. "He's fine." Andy walked over to gather up his computer and the bills. "Cooper is on today. Rusty is covered. It'll take more than a storm, Sharon."

She nodded quietly and turned again. She believed him, she truly did. At the back of her mind, she knew that he was correct, but still she worried. She was his mother, it was her place to worry for Rusty. Sharon drew a breath as she pulled open a drawer and took candles from it. Still, it made her stomach twist into knots to think that all of the extra precautions they had taken could all be for nothing, simply because nature was unpredictable. She exhaled quietly and set the candles out on the bar and the table.

"I have an idea," she decided, and tried to push her worry aside. Sharon lit the candles, then she walked around the condo and began dimming the lights, until the only illumination that remained was from the storm gray skies beyond the balcony door and the flickering candle light

"I like how your mind works." Andy turned off the game. Instead, he turned on the stereo. He kept the volume low, so that soft strains of classic rock filled the rooms. He snaked out an arm when she joined him, tugged her against him and stretched out on the sofa with her in his arms.

They settled so that they could watch lightening flicker across the sky. It was a lazy and casual Saturday. He held her while the storm raged overhead. While his hands and lips soothed the raging storm _inside_, they talked about the property listings they'd looked at recently, and the things that they had liked or disliked about them. They talked about cars for Rusty, and what he should or should _not_ be driving. They touched and they laughed. They made love, and they dozed, and when the lights did go out, she snuggled closer to him, and decided to think of only him, and the rare silence of a lazy, rainy day.


	2. Chapter 2

**If Tomorrow Never Comes**

**by Kadi**

**Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **It's not my sandbox, and they're not my toys... I just really love playing there!

* * *

**Chapter 2**

There wasn't much that could be celebrated when working homicide. When they got involved it was usually after the darkness descended. Lately it didn't feel like they were getting a lot of wins. Everything after Phillip Stroh's escape felt like they were living in limbo. They lost some. They broke even on others. It didn't feel as if they'd had a win, not since before the horrible Burning Man case.

Phillip Stroh was still at large. There were sightings of him reported every day, but nothing official. As far as they knew, he was in the wind, already out of the country. Or he was sitting back, waiting for his moment to strike. After almost six months searching for him, and despite this very frightening, very dark reality, it felt like maybe the tide was turning. There could be light on the periphery of a very black horizon.

They weren't only taking a win where they could find one. A missing child recovered, returned to her parents, and the suspect behind bars. All within forty-eight crucial hours, and all of it, apparently, before a single hair could be harmed on the child's beautiful blond head. It was something worth celebrating.

It was unclear who originally tossed out the idea to go to _Malone__'__s_, a popular sports bar and grill where the team occasionally gathered after closing a case. It had been a long time since they'd gone. Too long. The team jumped on the opportunity, but convincing their Captain to join them was another matter. She tried to defer, to beg off. She insisted that they would have a much better time without their rule loving boss tagging along.

They ganged up on her. It was a brilliant case of tag-team Captain handling between Flynn and Provenza. When they finished listing all the reasons why she should join them, Sykes and Buzz went in for the kill, using guilt on her. In the end, it was Tao's cool and precise logic that won their case for them. The Captain would be joining them at _Malone__'__s_ for a celebratory meal and drink.

As they cheered their success, and Amy and Tao shared a high-five, Sharon rolled her eyes at them. "Okay, alright." She waved her hands at them. "Everyone settle down. There's still a lot of work to be done before we can leave." As they groaned, she smiled. "I know. There I go, spoiling all of your fun. It's one of the many perks I get for being in charge."

Provenza leaned back in his chair, a frown on his face. He cast a look across the room, at his partner. "She's in charge?"

Flynn smirked at him. "Well, she likes to think that she is. It's one of those little white lies we tell every once in a while. You know, keeps her happy, keeps us out of trouble."

"Remind me again," Provenza drawled, "why that is important to me?"

"She signs the time sheets," Tao stated, without looking up from his desk again.

"Ah." Provenza turned back toward his desk. "That's almost like signing my paycheck. That's a reason that I can accept."

"Getting paid is good." Flynn nodded slowly. "Okay," he decided. He waved a hand at Sharon. "You can be in charge."

Sharon rolled her eyes at him as she turned. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I can't tell you how much your approval means to me."

"Oh," Andy smirked. "I can tell. The excitement is just rolling off of you."

She shot a pointed look at him from over her glasses. "Hm… The first round is on the Lieutenant," she decided and strode into her office with a grin.

It occurred to them, very quickly, that she had not said exactly _which_ Lieutenant. Mike and Andy exchanged a look, and both grinned as they quickly said, "Not it!"

Provenza scowled at them. "There is going to come a day…"

From her desk, without looking up, Amy chirped happily, "When you're going to finally retire?"

The Lieutenant almost choked. He glared at the top of her head. "Whatever happened to good old fashioned respecting your elders?"

Buzz grinned as he walked past them, "We met you and realized that there are exceptions to the lessons our parents taught us."

"Why can't she just fire him?" Provenza huffed loudly.

"Because you want it too bad." Flynn didn't bother looking up this time. He was flipping through the case file on his desk. "She'll never give you the satisfaction."

Provenza could always recognize a good opening when it was presented to him. He smirked as he tapped his pencil against his crossword. "Bet you know all about that, don't you Flynn."

He thought back, considered how they had spent the weekend. Then he thought about just how satisfied he had been in the shower that morning. Andy shrugged. "You're the expert," he said instead, "so I guess what they say is true. Takes one to know one."

He made a face at him. _Damn you_, Provenza thought, and turned his attention back to his crossword. He thought for sure that would get a reaction out of the other man. That it hadn't, made him more suspicious than not. Flynn was entirely too easy going these days. Or as easy going as any of them could be with everything that was going on. The puppy dog looks were gone. He wasn't staring after their Captain anymore, not in the way he had, not like a starving man that was desperate for a meal. His gaze still followed her more than it should, and they seemed to be as close as they ever were, but something was different. He just couldn't put his finger on it. Or more to the point, he couldn't get his partner to _admit_ to anything. Ye gods, he wasn't going to come right out and _ask_! But what kind of friend was Flynn anyway? He was supposed to tell him these things, or at the very least, warn him before the world exploded in his face.

While Provenza grumbled into his crossword, Andy turned his attention back to finishing his after action report. The Murder Room grew silent as the others did the same. All too soon they were wrapping it up. As they gathered their things and closed it down for the night, the Captain reappeared from her office, purse thrown over her shoulder and jacket draped over her arm. It occurred to Andy, not for the first time, that carpooling would be more responsible, but they both always took their own cars to work. They never needed to worry about the other being made to wait if the hour ran late and one of them was detained. It also allowed them to maintain the appearance of discretion, although at some point it was going to come out, the change in their relationship and living arrangement. Neither was prone to announcements, however, and decided to just let it be. It would happen, when and how it was meant to, much as the rest of their relationship had done.

Andy, who was usually the designated driver for these occasions, palmed his keys and decided it was another point in the favor of not carpooling with Sharon. "Okay," He asked, "Who's with me tonight?"

"Your driving makes me dizzy," Provenza decided as he shrugged into his jacket. "I'd rather wait and see if I need it."

He rolled his eyes at the other man and looked at the others. "Amy, Mike?"

"I'm meeting Cooper after," Sykes explained. "I'm good, but thank you, Lieutenant."

"I'm with Buzz," Tao told him. "I want to see the new GPS he installed this weekend."

It was on the tip of his tongue to comment on the geek factor of that. Andy swallowed it back, but laughed as he watched them leave. His eyes tracked the room, the others were already filing out. He met Sharon's eye and nodded as she strolled away with Amy. "Julio, you good?"

The younger detective had lingered back a little longer than the others. He packed his desk more slowly and finally shrugged into his jacket. "Actually, sir, I think I'm going to go home."

Andy's brows drew together. He tapped the fingers of one hand against his leg. "Oh come on, we talked the Captain into tagging along. How often does that happen? You can't beg off tonight."

Julio shrugged. He glanced away. "I think she might prefer it if I do." He was only recently back from his suspension. Getting back into the swing of the team dynamics wasn't hard, but things were still awkward and quiet where the Captain was concerned.

He watched him shift where he stood. Andy shook his head. "That's bullshit. Come on, all hands on deck. Trust me, if she didn't want you around, you'd know it. Let's go."

"I know that you think that you're an expert on the Captain," Julio stated calmly, trying to maintain some level of respect, "but honestly, sir, you haven't had to deal with her in quite the same way. It's pretty obvious how things are now."

"Obviously not." Andy took a step toward him. "Look, we're only going to talk about this the once, so you're going to want to listen. I get it, alright? You pissed her off, and that was hard to deal with. Worse, you disappointed her, and that's even harder. The thing is, Julio, if she wanted you gone, you would be gone. Hell…" He shook his head. "Who do you think kept your job for you?" After the stunt that he pulled, attacking Christakis, Sharon had been mad as hell. It was more than losing his temper again and attacking a suspect, he'd put Rusty's life in danger by jeopardizing a possible lead in finding Stroh. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but she went to bat for you. Staples wanted you gone, and Taylor was inclined to let it happen. Sharon called in more than a couple of favors." They weren't living together at the time, but they were spending a lot of time together. Even now, there were phone conversations that he tried to not hear, because they were taking place in their home or in the car while they were on their way to or from dinner. In the end, Julio had ended up suspended for three weeks. He'd spent another three on paid administrative leave while he attended anger management classes. He had come back to a desk job while he was evaluated by Professional Standards. It was only in the last month that he had been released back to Major Crimes. "She had to make a deal to keep you. If you screw up again," Andy continued, "it's not just your ass in a sling, get it? You'll be out the door, but they'll be putting a formal reprimand in Sharon's jacket. Her incredibly spotless jacket. So yeah, I know, if she didn't want you here, you'd be gone. You're going to have to earn her trust back. Now, suck it up Julio, come have a drink with the team."

The younger detective shook his head. He hadn't known all of that. He shoved his hands into his pockets while he thought about it. She was pleasant enough, but things were different. She didn't rely on him in quite the same way she had before. Julio figured the Lieutenant was probably right, she didn't trust him anymore. He was a loose canon in her eyes. She would need to know that his suspension and all of the classes had some effect. Even he wasn't really sure about all of that. Julio sighed, he looked up at the Lieutenant again, squinted as he studied him. "How do you know all of that, sir?" The Captain wouldn't have discussed it. It would be too much like breaking the rules. Actually, it was a confidential personnel matter, so it would be exactly like breaking the rules.

Andy rubbed a hand over his hair. "Really, Julio?" He rocked back on his heels. "You know, I can understand it with the others. Provenza is mostly ignoring it, and Amy is… okay, she's Amy," he said with a smirk. "Mike doesn't care, and Buzz doesn't _want_ to know, but I kind of expected better from you." He gave him a pointed look, and finally rolled his eyes. "Not like we're really shouting about it either, I mean, we like having our privacy, but…" They expected the people who were around them the most, who made a living out of being able to figure things like this out, to at least have some basic inkling that they weren't exactly _just friends_ anymore.

Julio stared at him for a moment. "Uh…" He didn't really know what to say. "I was kind of busy. You know, with not being around and trying to not beat the crap out of people anymore. I guess I missed it." He blinked a few times. When he thought about it, it made sense now. They weren't mooning after each other anymore. It was a lot more subtle. Julio shrugged again. "Cool."

"Something like that." Andy made a face at him. "So are you coming or not? We don't have a lot of time here. If Provenza gets my girl drunk, she'll talk. My job is to keep that from happening, and if I don't, because I'm standing here with you, it's my ass and not hers. Don't ask me how that works because I'm still trying to figure it out."

He snorted at him. Julio ran a hand over his head and sighed. "Thanks Lieutenant." He finally nodded. "Alright, I'll come along. Just to keep you out of trouble. You were single for too long. You forgot how this all works. You _never_ let them think they're in charge. They are, but you're not supposed to let them think it… man…" He picked up his keys, but decided he would ride with the Lieutenant. As they left, Julio tilted his head. "Exactly what will she tell us if she gets drunk?" Some of the sparkle was back in his dark eyes. "I mean, how does she feel about tequila…"

Andy groaned. "Dammit Julio…"

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

The groan and the shuffle of her slippered feet against the hardwood floor announced her presence. Andy stood at the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in hand. He fought the urge to grin. If he laughed, he was sure that she would shoot him. Instead, he put his cup down and reached for another. He filled it, and waited until she collapsed onto one of the bar stools. Her head hit the surface with a thud. She groaned again. Andy shook his head and carried the coffee over. He sat it nearby.

"How's your head?"

"Oh god. Not so loud." She waved him off, as if that would help. It was only the aroma of the coffee that had her lifting her head again. Sharon stared at it. "What did you do to me last night?"

"Me?" Andy shook his head at her. "Oh no, sweetheart. Not me. That's the one thing you never have to worry about." He felt a little bad for her. She wasn't wearing her glasses and looked like three kinds of hell. He'd managed to pour a bottle of water down her before she fell into bed the night before, but it obviously had nothing on the two margaritas and four rounds of shots the others had managed to talk her in to. He ended up driving her home after all, after Cooper picked up Amy, who was too drunk to meet him anywhere. Buzz had driven Mike and Provenza home, while Julio stayed with him and Sharon. If Provenza thought they'd taken Sharon home first, since Julio's neighborhood was on his way back to where his old Bungalow had been, well, he'd just let him think that. The cat was out of the bag though, at least as far as their _dating_ was concerned. After the first margarita and two shots, she had slipped into calling him _honey_. That was one way to let it be known, he supposed. He was only joking when he told Julio that she would talk. Sharon never had more than a glass or two of wine, unless she was out with Gavin. Julio and Amy's intentions had only been to get her to have the first shot with them, but then Provenza insisted on a second round, and as Andy knew only too well, after the first couple of drinks, the others came all too easily. He tried to talk her out of the last one, but neither she nor any of the others had been in the mood to listen. That was ultimately the one that had done her in. Andy smiled at the top of her head when she let it drop to lay against the surface of the bar again. "Drink your coffee, you'll feel better," he promised. He put a bottle of aspirin beside it.

She lifted her head, just a couple of inches, and squinted at it. "I think I might love you," she muttered. Sharon reached for it, and after several moments of struggling, she managed to finally remove the lid. She shook a couple of aspirin into her hand and popped them into her mouth, only to chase them with coffee. It burned her tongue, she didn't care. "Please tell me," she asked, "that I didn't do anything embarrassing?"

"Well," Andy grinned crookedly at her, "I would, but you made me swear last night that I wouldn't."

"Oh my god." Her head hit the bar again. "Ouch."

"What happened to her?" Rusty strolled into the room, his bag on his shoulder. He dropped it into a chair before walking over to slide onto a stool beside her. His nose wrinkled. "God, Sharon, you reek." He leaned a bit to one side. "You smell like a brewery. What did you do last night?"

"It's all Julio's fault," she mumbled, without lifting her head again.

Rusty's eyes widened. He looked across the bar at Andy. "Did he get in trouble again?"

"No." He poured another cup of coffee and passed it to the kid. "The team went out last night. There was a little too much tequila involved for some of them. I'm sure Amy is feeling it this morning too, and I've never known Julio to actually have a hangover…"

Sharon lifted her head and made a face at him. "That's not fair." She was certain that even her hair hurt. She picked up her coffee again and sighed. "I should never have agreed to that second shot."

"Really?" Rusty stared at her. "Two shots of tequila did _this_?" He'd heard the stuff was strong, but come on, he'd heard of people doing five and six shots before being drunk enough to pass out.

"Four, actually." Andy lifted his own cup and took a sip. He leaned against the counter again. "With two margaritas, and there might have been a beer slipped in there at some point. I tried to talk you out of the last one," he said, when she moaned at the number. "I believe your exact words were, _get your hands off my drink, or you__'__re sleeping on the sofa_."

"Oh no." She covered her face with a hand as her cheeks colored. "Please tell me that I didn't."

"Oh you did." He chuckled quietly. "It's safe to say that while they don't know I'm living here, they probably have the rest figured out." He lifted his cup at her in salute. "Congratulations. We are out of the closet."

When Rusty laughed, Sharon glared at him. "Why is that funny? There is nothing funny about this situation. I am mortified." She sniffed at him. "I can't believe you're still laughing. My own son laughing at my humiliation."

"Nope, the guilt isn't working." Rusty grinned widely at her. "You do the crime," he chirped, far too happily. "Come on, Sharon. It's not like you got naked and danced on a bar." He pointed at Flynn before he could open his mouth. "Don't even go there."

He snorted. "I would have drawn the line there. I don't care how mad she got at me. No public stripping allowed. Dancing on the other hand…" She glared at him next and Andy just smiled back at her. "It's fine. You didn't do anything embarrassing. Outing us was going to happen eventually, so it's not a big deal."

"I appreciate that," she told him, "but I would really rather not have done it while I was too intoxicated to know what was coming out of my mouth." She sighed as she lifted her coffee and slipped off the stool. "I'm going to go and stand in the shower until I can no longer smell the Jose Cuervo seeping out of my pores. You, I adore," she told Rusty, in case he was already gone when she returned. "Even if your laughter is completely inappropriate."

Rusty shook his head. He laughed again as she shuffled out of the room. "She never drinks, how did he get her to do it?" He never considered Sharon's one or two glasses of wine to be _drinking_, at least, not in the same way his mother drank, or Jack drank, or even Andy had done once upon a time.

"He said please." Andy topped off his coffee and started another pot to brewing. "She still feels bad about being so hard on him, but it had to happen. She's trying, but it's not easy. She has to learn to trust him again. Sharon tries not to play favorites, but it's human nature. Sometimes we just can't help it, and I'm pretty sure, Julio was her favorite." Andy shrugged. "He still is. That's why it's hard."

He thought about that. Rusty nodded, understanding. It was how she felt when she had to be tough with him or one of his siblings. Sharon hated it, but she would do it. She would feel bad about it, but she would stick to it for as long as she had to. "What time did you get in? I didn't hear you."

"Late." Andy leaned his hip against the counter again. "Don't worry about Sharon. I'll pour some coffee and protein down her, she'll be fine." He'd had too many mornings, just like that. He remembered the ritual pretty well. The upside was, she had been able to let go the night before, truly enjoy herself. The truth was, and he wouldn't tell Rusty, but she had only agreed to the second shot after receiving his text that he was home for the night. Only once he was locked up inside the apartment, safe and secure, had Sharon been able to relax. She would be kicking herself later, probably already was, for letting herself get that far gone, but when he really thought about it, Andy felt she had probably needed it. They could be cautious. They could reduce a lot of the risk, but Rusty was right about one thing. They couldn't spend every day of the rest of their lives looking over their shoulders.

"Okay." Rusty drained the last of his coffee. "I need to go, tell Sharon I'll see her tonight if we aren't shooting too late." He laughed again as he retrieved his bag. "Tell me there are pictures?"

"Nope." Andy smirked at him. "Even if there were, I wouldn't show you." It was a team event. What happened at _Malone__'__s_ stayed at _Malone__'__s_, at least for the most part.

Rusty shook his head as he strode toward the door. "I can't believe you guys had a party without me. Not cool dude, really not cool."

Andy laughed again as the kid left. While Sharon was busy in the shower, Andy got to work on making breakfast. Fresh fruit, eggs, and bacon, he decided, would make her feel more human.

She reappeared while he was setting the table. This time dressed in her short, fluffy bathrobe, with her hair still damp and curling from the shower. She looked better, he decided. She certainly smelled better, but Andy wisely kept _that_ to himself. As she dropped into her usual place at the table, he took her coffee cup and refilled it. "Better?"

Sharon grunted. She nodded quietly and lifted a piece of bacon. Her stomach turned at the idea of eating, but she knew it would make her feel better. She chewed thoughtfully, and when he sat beside her, at the head of the table, Sharon glanced at him. "What exactly did I say about us last night?"

Andy chuckled quietly. He placed her coffee in front of her and lifted his own. "Not a lot. It was less what you said and more what you called me." He watched her nod, easily accepting that. "You might have kissed me."

"Oh god." She covered her face with her hand while her cheeks colored. "I thought you said I didn't do anything embarrassing," she groaned.

"Kissing me is embarrassing?" He grinned crookedly. "Thanks, Sharon. That's great. Really."

She rolled her eyes toward him in a bland look. "It's not funny."

"Oh, it is." He leaned over and kissed her. "When you're feeling better, you'll see the humor in it. It was fine, I promise. You were no more out of control than you would have been if we were out to dinner with Nicole and Dean." She kissed him in front of the kids. "You laughed, you had fun, don't worry about it."

Sharon sighed. "That's not really the part that bothers me. It's the letting myself get that carried away. What if something had happened?" She swept her hair back from her face, tucked it behind her ear. "Even at home, Rusty isn't always completely safe. What was I thinking?" She covered her face again, this time with a sigh.

"You weren't." Andy shrugged. "For once, you really weren't thinking at all, and it's okay." He reached across and slipped his hand into her hair, let his fingers rub the back of her head. "You needed a break, Sharon. Rusty was covered. He has the panic button on his phone," the one item he agreed to in all of this, just in case something did happen while he was out in the world _alone_. "He also had his security detail watching the building, and you know, small consolation though it was, I was sober all night."

She looked up, into his crooked, boyish smile and sighed. "I know." She laid her hand on his arm and stroked it's length. Even when she wasn't watching Rusty, she knew that he was. He cared, just as much as the rest of her team did, what happened to her boy. Andy also had a personal stake in it. Rusty was family now, and one day, at some point in the future, when they were ready, her boy would probably be his stepson. "I love you," she said quietly. "You were here, I know, I just…" She sighed. "I feel like my entire life has been about keeping Rusty safe these last few years, and just when we could breathe again…"

"All of the air was sucked out." He took her hand, drew it to his lips. "I get it." It was how he felt, when he thought of losing her. "The thing is, it's okay. Rusty is as safe as we can make him without locking him away or putting him in Witness Protection. We're going to catch Stroh. Maybe not this week, or even this year, but he's going to screw up at some point, and we'll have him. In the meantime, Rusty is going to go to school, and he's going to go to work, and he's going to hang out with his friends. He's going to live, because that's what he wants, and it's what he needs, and it's what _you_ taught him. So it's okay if you do the same thing. Have dinner with Gavin, or drinks with your team, and you can forget for a few hours that you're scared for him every second of every day. We're all here, and we've got your back, we've got Rusty's. So live, Sharon."

"I am." She leaned toward him, arms braced on the corner of the table, and let her lips hover against his for just a moment before she kissed him. She was embracing her life where she could, and she was embracing him, and this love that had taken her completely by surprise. They were moving faster than they might have, if not for the darkness hanging over their heads. This was just something that they had both needed, to feel like they were moving forward in a world that seemed to be standing still. "Where did you come from," she murmured.

"I was always here." He grinned against her mouth. "Waiting for you."

She leaned back with a smile. It lit her eyes. He could be so corny. She loved that about him. Sharon shook her head at him, she laughed quietly and reached up to smooth away a single tear. "_Andy_."

He laughed as he stood. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Eat your breakfast. I'm going to jump into the shower and get ready for work."

"Hm." Sharon tipped her head back so that she could look up at him. She made a face at him, wrinkled her nose. "I think I should call in," she said, just a bit petulantly.

"You're going to work." Andy turned and started toward the hall. "The rest of the team is going to be there, feeling just as bad. You can't call in. Be a good captain and suck it up."

She made another face at his retreating back. "If you loved me," she tried, "you'd let me call in."

He tossed a look back at her. "I do love you, but you're going." Andy continued down the hall, but called back, "You're a whiney brat when you don't feel good."

"You're stubborn all the time," she called after him. Sharon considered the plate in front of her, then she thought about the fact that she was going to actually have to get dressed, do her hair, and put on makeup. She moaned quietly. It was going to be a long day.

Sharon and Andy arrived at the office, somehow managing to make it on time, despite the fact that she was dragging her feet and they'd stopped for coffee on the way. They decided they would retrieve her car on the way home that evening, and since they were outed, arriving together was no longer such a problem.

She strolled into the murder room, a smile on her face, and carrying the drink tray laden with steaming Styrofoam cups. "Good morning everyone."

At his desk, Provenza groaned. He had his head in his hands. "That voice. It grates. Make it stop."

Amy laughed. She sat, bright eyed and smiling widely at her own desk. "Good morning, Captain," she chirped.

"I hate her." Tao turned in his chair. He was still wearing his sunshades. He sniffed, smelled coffee and lifted his brows. "You, I might still like." He held out a hand as the Captain neared.

Sharon handed him the tray and readjusted her purse and jacket. "Believe me, I understand the feeling, Lieutenant. Amy, not so loud."

"Told you." Julio shook his head at her. "Captain, there's breakfast." He nudged the box on his desk. "Trust me, the sugar will help." Like Amy, he wasn't feeling the effect of the drinks he'd had the night before.

"I've already eaten, but thank you. Maybe later." She turned toward her office. "Someone else promised protein would do the trick."

"I just bet he did," Provenza muttered. He lifted his head and glared at them. "_Honey_."

At her door, Sharon turned and fixed Andy with a look. "Can't I just fire him?" Then she tossed a smirk at the Lieutenant and strode into her office.

"There are going to be words." Provenza pointed a finger at Andy. "Later, when my head is not hurting, and looking at you doesn't make me want to puke. You and I are going to have a very long talk."

"Sure." Andy grinned as he slid out of his jacket and dropped it on the back of his chair. He placed his keys and phone on his desk. "So tell me, how is Patrice these days?"

"Oh shut up." Provenza turned back to his desk and let his head fall back into his hands. Maybe there were some things that they shouldn't discuss. Ever.

Andy chuckled. That was one way to stop him before he even got started. He sat down and leaned back in his chair. With a smirk, he went in for the kill. "You know, we could double one night…"

"The hell we will." Provenza waved a hand at him. "You just keep it over there, and well away from me!"

"If I have to…" Andy shook his head as he started up his computer. He caught Julio's eye and shrugged. They couldn't say he hadn't tried. As he settled in to work, he heard Mike groan again. Andy fought the urge to laugh. It was going to be a long day.


	3. Chapter 3

**If Tomorrow Never Comes**

**by Kadi**

**Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **It's not my sandbox, and they're not my toys... I just really love playing there!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

June was shaping up to be unseasonably wet for Southern California. Another series of storms swept inland from the Pacific. They brought floods and the ever dangerous mudslides in the hills above the city. With the rain, came the unbearable heat and humidity. It seemed that the weekend would bring no more relief as clouds gathered once again just off the coast. They needed the rain, just not the disadvantages that came with it.

Andy sighed as he sat, stuck in traffic. There were roads blocked all over the city, washed out or shutdown due to accidents. Southern Californians just didn't know how to drive on the wet pavement. He lifted his phone and dialed a familiar number.

"I'm going to be late," he said, when Sharon answered on the second ring. "Maybe I should meet you at the restaurant. If I get off the freeway now, I'll probably get there just ahead of you."

"No." Sharon juggled her purse and phone as she let herself into the condo. She flipped the lock behind her, out of habit. "I just got home. I haven't even showered yet. Call Nicole, tell her we'll both be late. I can probably push the reservation back an hour." They were meeting his daughter and son-in-law for dinner, something that they tried to do at least once a week.

"Yeah alright." He sighed. He didn't like disappointing Nicole, he had given her a lifetime of that, but rain and traffic were well and truly out of his control. "The way we're moving, I'll probably get there after you're ready."

"Hm." She hummed thoughtfully as she moved through the condo. Sharon dropped her purse and jacket on the bed. "As long as you get here safely," she told him. "We'll be late, Andy, it will be fine."

"Yeah." He scowled at the unmoving cars in front of him. "Maybe. Okay, love you."

"Yes." She smiled. "Me too." She ended the call and dropped her phone on the bed. Sharon blew out a breath and rolled her shoulders. She walked toward the bathroom to start the shower, but stopped when it rang again. She turned back with a groan and lifted it. She rolled her eyes to see that it was Andy again. "Yes," she said at length.

"Wear the blue dress," he drawled. "I like it." He smirked, rested his elbow against the seat rest and got comfortable.

Sharon rolled her eyes again, but she grinned. "I'll think about it. Good bye Andy." She dropped her phone again and waited. When it lit up a third time, she lifted it. "Stop calling me." She hung up on his laughter and tossed it onto the mattress. "That man," she muttered. She left the phone behind, and this time made it in to the bathroom to start the shower. While the water heated, she returned to call the restaurant and managed to get their reservation pushed back an hour. With the rain, it wasn't going to be an overly busy night.

With room to breathe now, she took her time in the shower. Afterward, she pulled a soft robe around her body and stepped into her closet. There was part of her that was tempted to ignore the blue dress, but she grinned as she tugged the hanger off the rack. She selected a pair of heels and lay both items out on her bed while she went about getting ready, drying and styling her hair and seeing to her makeup. There was a text waiting from Andy when she stopped to check her phone. Nicole was good with pushing their night back an hour, apparently Dean was caught in traffic too.

Sharon was just sliding into her dress when she heard the front door. The blue dress fell to her knees in soft folds. It had capped sleeves, a fitted waist, and a scoop neckline that she knew was the reason Andy appreciated it. "I'm almost ready," she called, and walked barefoot into the bathroom to put the finishing touches on her makeup. "If you hurry, you've got time for a quick shower before you change." She leaned forward, against the vanity, and applied color to her lips. She heard movement in the bedroom. "If you wear the dark three piece, it won't hurt my feelings," she drawled, teasing him. She turned, to start into the bedroom and stopped. Her breath caught. Her heart seized. There was a darkly clad figure standing there.

"Sorry." He shrugged. "Not Andy." His hand lifted, a key dangled from his finger. "You should really be careful who you give these things to." He smiled as he tucked it back into his pocket with one hand. The other reached out for her, even as she snatched up the curling iron to strike at him. "Now, now, Captain. That's no way to act." His hand fisted in her hair. Phillip Stroh tossed her into the door frame and grinned as she fell. "We're going to be friends."

She landed hard at his feet. Her ears rang from the blow. Her head throbbed. Sharon drew breath into her aching lungs, forced herself to breathe beyond the initial shock. She tipped her head back, and the room swam around her. Her eyes blinked rapidly against the dizzying images. Her instinct was to scramble back, but she looked up at him instead. "You can go to hell." Her foot swept out, the obvious choice was his groin, and he guarded that even as she moved. Instead, she kicked his knee as hard as she could. When he stumbled, she kicked him again, this time in the stomach. She used the vanity beside her and pulled herself up. She shoved past him, using the force of her weight, and drove her elbow into his face to knock him further away from her.

"Bitch!" Phillip caught her arm. He used her momentum to pull her around. She was knocked sideways, and into the bookshelf. As she fell into it, several of the shelves were knocked free. "I knew you were going to be trouble," he said. "You are always in the way. You see, I've got this policy. You could call it a bit of a habit, really. There can never be any witnesses, and I almost had that little punk, a couple of times, but you just keep ruining everything. So I thought to myself, if I want Rusty, and I really, really, want Rusty, then I've got to get rid of the pain in my ass first. That's where you come in to it." He watched her stand again, he could almost admire the tenacity. "First I'm going to kill you, and then I'm going to kill Rusty, and _then_ I'm going to disappear, and I should really point out, there's nothing you can really do to stop me."

She blew a lock of hair out of her face. "Want to bet?" She hurt all over, and it occurred to Sharon, she was too damned old for this. Her stomach twisted at his words. He could get rid of her, but Rusty would still be protected. If she could do nothing else, she could inflict as much damage as possible, slow him down, if not kill him. Her jaw clenched. Her phone was on the bed, and her gun was in her bag. Neither item was within reach.

"Oh." Phillip grinned again. "Looking for this?" He reached behind him and pulled the nine millimeter out of the waist of his dark jeans. "I learned my lesson with our friend Brenda. Purses are nasty dangerous. So are guns, and they're so impersonal." He tucked it back into his jeans. "I'll just hang onto it for a while, I don't want you dead, yet, and bullets just bore me. So…" He considered her. "Let's see what you've got. I'm willing to play. You're kind of tough, for a little old lady."

Her hand closed around a picture frame. She smashed it against his head when he came close enough. The glass broke, and as they fought, it cut into her feet when she stepped on it. The only problem was that he was bigger, and she was unarmed. He seemed to like to throw her around, and she allowed it. She made sure that he tossed her toward the dresser this time. She went down, pain in her hip, but she caught the left top drawer and jerked it out. She swung it at him, was a bit gratified when he cried out in unexpected pain and stumbled back.

Sharon rifled through the contents that had rained down around her. When he reached for her again, her hand closed around the brown, leather holster of Andy's back up weapon, an old, snub nosed, .38. She tore it from the holster, but as she pointed it at him, something struck the side of her head. She fired as darkness closed in, and hoped the hiss she heard was from the impact of a bullet. He struck her again, and as she fell back, she had one final thought.

_Rusty__… _

He adjusted his bag as he slipped his key into the lock. Rusty pushed it open and stepped into the condo. Both cars were parked in the garage, but he could have sworn Sharon said they had plans tonight. Rusty left his keys by the door and tossed his bag onto a chair. "Hey, Sharon. I'm home. Aren't you guys late?" Rusty walked toward the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. He studied the contents. He had a choice of leftovers or takeout. Rusty decided it was Friday night. He wanted takeout. For now, he settled on an apple and a bottle of juice. There was no answer from down the hall, and that made him roll his eyes. Rusty walked into the living room as he bit into his apple. He craned his head and looked down the hall. Her door was open, that meant they weren't doing anything gross. Probably still getting ready to go out. "I thought it was date night," he called. "You know, you're supposed to make out _after_ the date."

Rusty grinned at his own joke. He bit into the apple again and walked around the sofa to turn on the television. For once, they had wrapped up at a decent hour, and they weren't filming during the weekend. He was looking forward to having a couple of days off. He came to an abrupt stop, however, and the bite in his mouth got stuck in his throat. The apple and bottle of juice fell out of suddenly numb hands. Rusty stared, until the need to breathe made his lungs burn. Then he swallowed hard and forced the bite into his twisting, rolling stomach. For several seconds Rusty couldn't move. He could only stare. There was a burning, stinging pressure behind his eyes.

His legs felt heavy when he finally shuffled forward. His head was spinning a bit, and he knew that was because he wasn't really breathing. Rusty drew a ragged breath as he knelt. His fingers shook as he reached out with one hand. He hesitated for a moment, afraid really to check. While he knelt there, he reached into his pocket with his other hand and palmed his phone. Rusty drew it out. His jaw clenched as he turned it over in his hand. He blinked furiously, and realized that the trembling was not limited to his hands. His entire body was shaking.

While he struggled to breathe, he did the one thing he'd hoped would never happen. He hit the panic button that they had programmed into his phone. It sent a text, with the GPS of his location, and alerted everyone that he was in trouble. Rusty was pretty sure that this qualified. He reached down then, and lay shaking fingers against the neck of the prone figure in front of him. For a few more seconds he couldn't breathe. His eyes closed when he felt it, faint, but a pulse.

Rusty's phone was ringing as he stood. He stumbled on shaking legs and began to make the long walk down the hall. _Both cars_ were downstairs, he remembered. When he got home, Andy's had been pulled in beside Sharon's. He lifted the phone in his hand to his ear, moving now on autopilot. "Yeah," he whispered hoarsely, to the dispatcher on the other end. "Rusty Beck, there's been an attack at my house." He took shallow breaths. Listened to the voice on the other end. It wasn't making any sense to him. Rusty hesitated outside the bedroom, afraid of what he would find.

His jaw clenched. He swallowed back the bitter bile that was burning at the back of his throat. He gripped the phone more tightly and forced himself to step into the room. His eyes scanned the interior. It was wrecked. There was a broken drawer, the bookshelf was demolished. Glass, books, and other items littered the floor. There was blood. On the floor, on the door frame going into the bathroom, and on the bed. But there was no one there.

He breathed raggedly. Rusty could hear the front door banging in. He spoke quietly into the phone before he dropped it. "Send an ambulance. Lieutenant Flynn has been shot."

_Where the hell was Sharon?_

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

There were bad days, and then there were _bad days_. Deputy Chief Howard scowled darkly as he strode across the parking lot in front of the Los Feliz towers. There was a command post already set up in front of the building. He bypassed it. Everyone he wanted to speak to was already upstairs, on the eleventh floor.

He stalked through the lobby, and the officers on post stepped wisely out of his way. As he moved into the elevator, his jaw clenched. His fingers tapped against the hilt of his gun as he rode it upward, eyes watching the digital counter as the floors moved past. Finally, it stopped and the doors opened.

Fritz stepped out of the elevator and into a flurry of activity. There was a table set up just outside the condo. Buzz was parked there, in front of three computers, monitoring the camera footage. Fritz walked past him and into the condo itself. He looked around. SIS and SID were already on site, pouring over the place, collecting evidence. Major Crimes was there too, as evidenced by Buzz's presence. He wasn't surprised, he wouldn't expect them to be anywhere else. His eyes spotted a familiar form and he walked over. "Lieutenant, how's Flynn?"

Provenza glanced up. He held a framed photo in his hand. He blinked a couple of times. He shifted where he stood and sighed. He was getting too old for days like this. "He's still in surgery. His daughter is there, she'll call me with an update. Looks like he took one in the shoulder, it did some damage, he lost a lot of blood. He has a concussion too, hit his head on the coffee table when he went down. They're keeping an eye on that too. They think he'll be okay."

"Good." Fritz sighed as he nodded. His hands settled against his uniform clad hips. "What about the Captain?"

Provenza shook his head. "We don't know yet. We're still looking for her." He looked down again, sighed as he put the photo back where it belonged.

Fritz followed his gaze. His brows drew together. He was looking at a picture of the Captain and Lieutenant, snapped at the ballpark. They were leaning back against the rail, a view of the diamond behind them. It appeared to be completely candid. She was leaning back against him, with his arm draped around her shoulder and across his chest. His lips were pressed against her hair as she stood, a hand resting against his arm, as if to hold it in place, and smiling at something off camera. He sighed quietly. He had heard the rumors. "Where's Rusty?"

"Down the hall." Provenza jerked his head in that direction. "Julio is with him. SID has already been through his room. We're letting him gather some stuff. He can't stay here, it's a crime scene." He started walking in that direction. "The chief is back here too. Come on…"

Provenza had already been in there. He had already seen the damage. He left it to the others. He didn't want to be searching his Captain's home. He didn't want to be cataloging the rooms. He wanted to detach himself from it, pretend that it was any other crime scene. The only problem was, he couldn't. Not when everywhere he turned there were photos and mementos that spoke of the owners. Pictures of Rusty, although they all knew the boy to be camera shy, were blended in with those of Ricky and Emily. Melded into the pictures on walls and shelves just as easily and just as surely as the Captain had melded that boy into her life.

It was the boy that he was worried about most. Rusty had walked in to all of this, and now he was frightened and worried. There was a part of him too, Provenza knew, that was already grieving. Rusty had lost too much in his life to be completely optimistic. He was expecting to lose this too.

Then there was his partner. His damned idiotic and stupid partner. They had not talked about this! Granted, Provenza did not _want_ to talk about it, but he would have expected him to mention _something_. Especially with the fact that he had moved in with her for crying out loud! _When_ had that happened, and what was he thinking? He wasn't completely blind, he knew that something was going on between them, even before the Captain had let it slip during their little night out. It was just too damned obvious. They were idiots in love. He never expected it to last.

Maybe he was wrong.

There were sure as hell pictures mixed in here and there that spoke of something that wasn't the fling that he figured Flynn would end up having with her. Sure, they would get it out of their systems, and then they would break up. They would make everyone around them miserable for a while, and then things would go back to normal.

Apparently not.

Provenza averted his gaze from some of the pictures now. He had already seen them. He didn't need to see them again. He didn't need to linger over photographs of his Captain, laughing with Flynn's daughter. He didn't want to focus on images of Rusty building sandcastles with the step-grandkids, or of Ricky with Flynn and his son Daniel at the ballgame. Most of all, he didn't want to see the pictures of his partner with his captain. There was one that he was especially going to ignore again. It was in a gleaming frame, with the glass now cracked. It had been knocked from the bookshelf, he thought. The two idiots were seated at a table together at an outdoor cafe. His arm was stretched across the back of her chair, and she was leaning in to him, chin in her hand. They were looking at one another. It was a look that Provenza had seen before. He saw it too often, when they didn't think anyone was paying attention to them.

It was the look that reminded him that this wasn't just a fling. It was the look that told him that they had to find her. For more reason than just because she was missing, or because she was their Captain. They needed to do it so that he could look Rusty in the eye again, and not have to tell him that he lost the only real mother he ever had. So that when his partner was out of surgery, already riding a wave of pain, he wouldn't have to tell him that his other half wasn't coming back. He couldn't do that. His partner had done something stupid, and like usual, when one of them _screwed up_, he was going to help him out as best he could. It's what they did. It's how they worked. There was one thing that all of the pictures told him. Flynn had gone and fallen in love with his best friend. Flynn might be an idiot, but he was his idiot.

Fritz followed him down the hall, sliding past other officers and SID technicians. They stopped at an open door and Provenza waved him inside. Fritz looked around before he entered, careful not to step on anything. Taylor was standing in the center of the room, speaking with McGinnis and Tao. "Chief." He nodded to the man as he joined them. "Commander. What do we have?"

Taylor nodded to the others, and stood, hands at his hips while he studied the wreckage and the evidence collection. "Primary crime scene," McGinnis said. "At least, that's what we believe. This room seems to have had the most activity."

"We've taken blood samples," Tao nodded to the markers on the floor, beside each pool and splatter that they had found. "We'll match it against the Lieutenant's, but we think the blood here belongs to the Captain and…" He hesitated, swallowed hard, "whoever attacked them."

"It looks like the Lieutenant was caught by surprise," McGinnis stated. "He was shot in the outer room. As he fell, he struck his head. It doesn't appear that he moved beyond that room during the attack." She stepped back, careful of the markers on the floor. "What we think, and from what we were able to get from Rusty, the Captain was here, probably getting ready to go out for the night. We think that the Lieutenant was picking her up, and surprised the attacker, but that doesn't appear to be the case."

"Why?" Fritz scowled. "Photos and the evidence in the outer rooms seem to support that theory. Was she meeting someone else?" He shifted. "Don't tell me this is a jealous domestic gone bad?" He could see how it could be twisted that way, but he knew the people involved. It just didn't fit. Not with _Raydor_ of all people!

"No." Tao handed an evidence bag in his hand to one of the SID techs. "The Lieutenant lives here. We found his belongings in the closet, and Rusty confirmed it. He moved in a few weeks ago. Rusty said they've been looking for a bigger place. Flynn sold his house."

"You didn't know?" Howard frowned at him. Tao was acting surprised by the news. "Come on, I know how you guys work. You can't tell me that you didn't know one of yours was moving in with his girlfriend?"

"We didn't." Tao shrugged. "The Captain doesn't talk about her personal life, and we don't ask. We knew they were seeing each other, that was kind of obvious, but the rest, big mystery."

"Big secret." Provenza grumbled from the door. "That idiot." He shoved his hands into his pockets and scowled at all of them. "This is all very touching, but shouldn't we be talking about what we're doing to find the Captain?"

McGinnis ignored his grumbling. "I had Buzz pull the camera footage and take it back twelve hours, to see if anyone was loitering in the building waiting for the Captain or Lieutenant to get home. So far, he hasn't found anything."

"No." Fritz looked around again. "This was planned, and it was coordinated. Someone who knew their movements. He wouldn't be loitering around today."

"You're thinking it was Stroh," Taylor stated. The thought had crossed his mind too. It had crossed all of their minds.

"Yeah," Fritz told him. "Thats exactly what I'm thinking. It makes sense. Think about it. All of our time and energy has been focused on Rusty. That's who we were worried about, but why are we doing that? It wasn't only to catch Stroh. Without Sharon, we would have tossed that kid into Witness Protection so fast it would have made his head spin. Get him out of this city, and Rusty is impulsive. He would run. Then he would be vulnerable. Then Stroh would have him. With Sharon involved in all of this, we're not protecting a witness."

"We're protecting a colleague's kid," McGinnis finished quietly. "That's why I had my best guys on it," she told them. "It's why I let Cooper rotate in, when I could be using him somewhere else." As much as they'd like to believe they would do the same for anyone, that wasn't always exactly true. They protected their own.

"So why wouldn't he get rid of her?" Fritz shrugged. "She was in his way. Get her out of the way, and while we're all reeling, he's got a straight shot to Rusty. That's how this son of a bitch thinks." He shook his head slowly. "It's not going to happen." He looked at McGinnis.

"I'm on it," she told him. "He won't go anywhere without coverage. Perez and Stuart, he's comfortable with them. He knows them. They know him." It also helped that they were familiar with his movements too. Perez and Stuart had been part of the secret security rotation that she worked out to keep Rusty covered for the last six months.

"The kid knows about it now." Taylor said, as if reading Howard's mind. "He was a little upset at first, but mostly because he didn't realize it on his own. He's too upset now to care. He's cooperating."

"Of course he is," Tao said quietly. "His mother is missing."

"Rusty thought that he should have known he was being followed," Provenza said. "He was upset that he never noticed, but that's just because your guys are better at your jobs than he is at being alert. He understands now that it just means he could have been followed by Stroh all this time too, and never realized it."

"The kid is blaming himself," McGinnis said quietly. "We're going easy on him. He hasn't seen anything. If he's been followed by anyone but our guys, he never noticed it. Our guys never spotted anything unusual either. I think you're right, I think the Captain was Stroh's intended target the whole time. He never had any intention of going after Rusty, not so long as she was alive."

"We don't know that she's dead," Provenza said, glowering at her.

"No, we don't." Fritz interrupted. "So I suggest that we find her before he leaves a body for us instead."

"I couldn't agree more." Taylor waved them out of the room. "This way gentlemen, Commander." He herded them all down the hall ahead of him, and out of the condo. "Buzz, what have you found?"

"We just got the download from the bank across the street," he told them. "We had to wait on the warrant. I'm watching those videos now…" On his other screens, the footage from inside the Captain's building was still playing. He was scanning it with his own facial recognition program, searching for Stroh. "Okay, here we go… I pulled up the footage an hour before Rusty got home, which is the last timestamp we have on the Captain's phone, from the Lieutenant texting her. No one leaves the garage or the parking lot…" He pointed at the screen as they watched. "But here, we have Rusty pulling into the garage." They watched his car disappear inside. "Then we have the Captain's car leaving ten minutes later."

"I don't understand." McGinnis looked at the others. "When Rusty got home, he said both cars were parked downstairs. Now the Captain's car is missing."

"Yes." Provenza shook his head slowly. "He just missed him." That was a chilling realization on its own. "Rusty must have gotten home, as he was carrying the Captain out. Buzz, fast forward the building camera footage. I want to see the hall outside the Captain's door for the same time. An hour before Rusty got home."

"Okay." He pulled his keyboard over and let his fingers move across it. The footage stopped, and the video on his screen disappeared. He pulled up another time frame. "This is the Captain getting home." They watched her walk from the elevator to her door. She appeared to be on her phone as she worked her key into the lock and entered. The hall was silent, and without movement. He fast forwarded it until they spied a dark clad figure walking toward it. "Oh god."

His back was too them, but they all knew that form well. Fritz's jaw clenched. "No. He just wants to think that he's a god. That's Phillip Stroh."

They all watched as he slid a key into the lock. He entered the condo with entirely too much ease, and that begged the question of where he had gotten the key. "The Condo is for sale, the building manager would have a copy for prospective buyers," Tao muttered. He took a step back and pulled out his phone to call the manager, he needed to know if that key was missing.

Provenza's jaw clenched. They had no reason to think the key would be unsafe in the building manager's hands. The manager was aware of the added security and the reason for it. It should have been secure. In his pockets, his hands clenched, but he didn't look away from the screen. They watched as time ticked by. Flynn approached the door, let himself inside. Nothing at all seemed out of the ordinary, not until a minute later. Stroh appeared again, this time with the Captain draped over his shoulder. "Stop it right there," he told Buzz.

Stroh was looking directly at the camera. "Look at his face." McGinnis leaned forward. She whistled quietly. He was bleeding, and he appeared to be beaten. There was also a makeshift bandage tied around his upper arm. "She beat the hell out of him."

"Good." Fritz pulled his phone out. "We need a want out on the Captain's car." He was already dialing. "Buzz, let it play." While he called in the want on the Captain's car, they watched Stroh leave the condo.

He went out through the stairwell. They accessed those cameras. He was in the stairwell as Rusty was coming up the elevator. He had just missed him. Another couple of minutes, and he would have surprised Rusty in the parking garage.

"Dammit." Provenza swore quietly. They watched Stroh drop the Captain into the trunk of her car before he found another camera. He looked right at it and winked. Then he slid in behind the wheel and drove away.

"I'll get my airships off the ground," McGinnis turned away from them with her own phone. It was raining, but the storm wasn't too bad. Her pilots and their machines could handle it.

Taylor leaned in closer to the camera footage from the Bank. He reached out and hit a couple of keys, rewound it himself and watched it play again, as the car left the garage. "Don't turn north," he muttered quietly. "Don't turn north…" He was aware, quite uncomfortably, that Griffith Park was just north of the Captain's building. If Stroh had gone in that direction, it didn't bode well for her. He would dump her body and in the rain, it would take them too long to find it in that urban wilderness. He had drawn all of their attention. The others watched too, holding their breath. There was a collective sigh of relief when the Captain's car went south instead. "Call traffic," Taylor said. "Pull all that footage. I want to know where that car was headed."

"I'm on it." Provenza took his phone out and made the call himself. He reached out and laid a hand on the civilian's shoulder. "Good work, Buzz."

He nodded quietly, but wasn't sure that it was enough. Buzz just hoped that they would find her. "While we wait for traffic," he told them, "I'm going to go and check on Rusty."

"Go ahead," Provenza nodded. The boy needed all the looking after that they could give him right now.

"What about the Captain's kids," Buzz asked. "This is going to be all over the news, if it's not already. Has anyone called them yet?"

"Lieutenant Flynn's daughter said that she would handle that," Taylor said. "Rusty wasn't in any shape to do it. I imagine that we'll be seeing them as soon as they can get here. I suggest we make sure we have something to tell them. Excuse me," he turned away from them with his own phone, he had to update the Chief on their progress. An escaped psychopath shooting one of their own, and taking another, that was a really bad day.

Buzz made his way down the hall. He had already filmed practically everything, and he knew the way. It wasn't the first time he had been in the condo. Like the others, he hadn't known the living arrangements had changed. He supposed they all had their secrets, and their privacies. They left as much of themselves as they could at home. It was the only way to escape the horror they encountered every day. He averted his eyes as he walked past the Captain's bedroom, he didn't want to see that again.

At the end of the hall, Rusty's door was open. He stepped inside. Rusty's security guard was standing at the door. He nodded to Stuart and Perez and let his eyes scan the room. Rusty was seated on the bed, head in his hands. Julio was seated beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and speaking quietly. Buzz walked over and sat on his other side. "Rusty."

He looked up. His face was pale. His eyes were red. "Did they find her yet?" His stomach was all twisted into knots. His eyes felt dry. In his throat, there was a hard, painful lump that made it hard to speak.

"Not yet," Buzz told him. "But we have a lead." He looked across his head at Julio. "They left in the Captain's car."

"But it was here," Rusty argued. "It was parked downstairs in her spot when I got home!"

"That's because you just missed them," Buzz said quietly. Keeping things from Rusty would only make the situation worse. They knew that from past experience. "He used the stairs. He was coming down with the Captain while you were going up. If you'd been a couple of minutes later, they would have already been gone."

"Or I could have helped her," Rusty muttered. He looked down again. He couldn't believe how close he had been.

"No," Julio said. "More likely, he would have killed you, and taken the Captain anyway."

"Maybe he should have," Rusty said quietly. "If I was dead, he didn't need her. This is all my fault. I should have listened. I should have—"

"Rusty." Julio shook his head at him. "We all understood why you didn't want security. None of us wanted to live in a prison either. But you were not unprotected. This is not your fault, and even if you had been, we have no reason to believe Stroh wouldn't have done this anyway."

"He's not sane, Rusty." Buzz spoke quietly. "You can't reason out what he may or may not do. We know which way they went, we're pulling the footage from the traffic cameras. We're going to find them."

"Yeah." Rusty didn't believe it. "Of course you are."

"All of our best guys are on it," Perez said, speaking up from the door. "Don't worry, buddy, we're going to find Stroh."

"Before he hurts your mom," Stuart added.

Rusty lifted his head again. He stared at them, but then slowly, his gaze moved to Buzz again. "I used to say she wasn't my mom. How stupid is that?"

"That's pretty dumb," Julio said. He nudged his shoulder, though, to take the sting out of it. "But the best part is, you get to make it up to her. Come on, we have to go. We can't stay here, Rusty."

He stared at them. Rusty shook his head. "I don't want to leave." This was his home. What if he didn't get to come back? If Sharon was dead, where would he go?

"I know," Buzz said. "But you have to. Rusty, the condo is a crime scene. You can't stay here."

"Lieutenant Provenza told us to take him to the Murder Room," Stuart said. "The ninth floor at PAB is the safest place for him right now."

Julio nodded as he stood up. "He's right." If somehow Stroh doubled back, before they caught him, Rusty was safest at headquarters.

"What about Andy?" Rusty looked around at all of them. "If I can't stay here, shouldn't I be at the hospital?"

"Rusty," Buzz spoke softly. "Where would the Captain want you to be right now? That's the place that you need to go."

He sighed. His shoulders slumped. Rusty bowed his head again. "The Murder Room," he said quietly.

"We'll keep you updated," Julio told him. "I promise. As soon as we know something about the Lieutenant or the Captain, we'll make sure that you hear about it. We'll all probably head back there soon too. It's okay, Rusty. I'm going to find her," he promised. "I'm going to bring her back."

"No." He stood up and reached for his bag. "Nothing is okay." He pulled the strap of it over his shoulder and moved with the guys that were going to be watching him. "Nothing has been okay since the night I pulled that hood off a serial killer's head." Nothing except finding Sharon. Was that ruined now too? Was she already dead?

"Don't worry," Perez hung back for a minute, as Rusty went with Chad. "We've got him."

"See that you do," Julio said, just a bit darkly. He waited for them to leave and looked at Buzz. "What happened?" He could tell there was more that the other man wasn't saying.

"We have footage of Stroh leaving the condo with the Captain. She was unconscious or dead. We don't know which. He was pretty beat up," Buzz said. "She got a piece of him before he took her down."

Julio nodded slowly. He didn't want to think about it, just like the others didn't want to think about it either, but the odds were higher that if they did catch Stroh, they'd find him with her body. His jaw clenched. He exhaled through his nose as the fury rolled through him. "Yeah she did," he said finally. "Remember the bean bag? She's bad ass." He ground his teeth together. "So let's go find her."

They wanted to find her alive, but even if it was her body, they were bringing her home.


	4. Chapter 4

**If Tomorrow Never Comes**

**by Kadi**

**Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **It's not my sandbox, and they're not my toys... I just really love playing there!

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"What do we have?" Taylor stepped inside the mobile command center. It was still set up in front of the Los Feliz Towers. They weren't wasting time just to move their operation back downtown. Not with traffic the way that it was due to the rain. There were traffic jams and outages due to flooding all over the city. They needed the rain, but the problem was the ground was too hard, too dry to accommodate it. The beginning of a rainy season always saw more problems than solutions.

Fritz glanced at him as he joined them. He nodded to the array of screens that lined one wall of the bus. "The camera footage we pulled from traffic helped. We've got sightings of the Captain's car here, here, and here," he pointed, indicating the red flags that were lit up along the route that Stroh had taken. "It looks like he's headed out of town. He drove west, and now he's headed north again, toward the hills. My guess is, he's going to hit the 405 and move through the hills north of the Palisades, toward Sherman Oaks. He may have a dumpsite there. After that, he's probably planning to head north along the coast."

Taylor nodded slowly. "Where's McGinnis?" He looked around, but didn't see her. "I want her airships following that route."

"She's on it." Fritz explained. "Ann is in the air with her pilots. She's got eyes on the ground. Her best spotters are looking for that car. We've got cars on the road, and traffic is putting up check points. He won't get out of this city. Major Crimes is on the ground. They're headed out to the hills, they're going to head back this way, cut him off."

"Good, that's good." He walked around, got closer to the screens. "Turn that up," he told the technician monitoring communication from all of their teams. "I want to hear everything that is going on."

"Air 5," McGinnis's voice filled the interior of the bus. "This is Air 1, I want a status report."

"We have eyes on our people," the pilot responded. "Patrol is checking ID through the first check point. We are moving to check point two to monitor progress."

"Air 1, this is Air 14," another responded. "We are tracking reports of a possible sighting. A black and white reported seeing a silver Hyundai Genesis leaving Brentwood just south of checkpoint 3. We are headed out to get eyes on it."

"Understood Air 14, we will be on your location shortly," McGinnis reported. "All units, be advised, we have a possible sighting. Proceed with caution, I repeat, proceed with caution. This may not be our suspect, but if it is, we do not want to spook him. Again, we have a _possible_ suspect traveling north out of Brentwood. We want eyes on. We have every reason to believe that there is a hostage in that vehicle. Proceed with caution."

"Air 1 this is Detective Sanchez. We have a check point set up at exit 57 and North Sepulveda. I repeat, the checkpoint is in place. We are ready." He looked across his car, Tao was riding shotgun. The other man nodded. He had his computer open in his lap. He was tied into the SOB system and tracking the progress of the other units.

"This is Cooper, we've got Sunset blocked off. Air 1, I suggest we let the suspect get on the 405. We'll have all exits blocked."

"Agreed Lieutenant," McGinnis responded. "All units, follow with caution but do not stop that car. Let's block him in."

Inside the dark charger that belonged to Provenza, Amy tapped out a sequence on the computer in her lap. "Lieutenant, we have units here, and Julio has the north blocked off."

He nodded once. His car fell in line with the other units at Sunset. "We're ready. Let's just hope that's our guy and he doesn't spook."

"Air 1," a voice cut through their thoughts. "This is Air 14, we may have eyes on that silver car." It was circling high above and shining a spotlight at the area where it had been seen. "We have a vehicle off road, down an embankment north of Wilshire. It looks like it went through a guardrail. Roll units to that location. This could be our silver Hyundai."

"This is not good," his spotter stated. "We've got flooding in that ravine. Circle around partner, shine the light down there." He adjusted the sighting on his binoculars. "Not good, not good. Roll units now. That car is on its roof, and it is filling up fast down there."

"No joy Air 1, no joy," the pilot said. "We have a downed vehicle. This could be our car. Roll ground units and EMS to this location."

Tao and Julio stared at one another. Did they leave their checkpoint and converge on that location? It might not be their car, and if it wasn't, what were they risking? There were other cars monitoring the check point. It would still be in place. "Go," Tao decided. He closed his computer and tightened his seatbelt. He knew that Sanchez would be driving fast and on wet pavement.

He gunned the Charger's Hemi engine and pulled away from the checkpoint. He took the exit, and with his lights and sirens going, he headed south on Sepulveda. It would get him there much faster than staying on the 405. They weaved in and around traffic and blew through the lights at Sunset Boulevard. Other cars fell in with them, and Julio knew that it was probably Cooper and Provenza.

They spied the spot lights from the helicopters that had converged on the location of Air 14 before they reached the ruined guard rail. Julio hit his breaks and the car slid on the wet pavement. The rear end spun around and he jerked the wheel into the turn. He had his door open before they were completely stopped. He put the car in park but left the engine running as he left the vehicle. He jogged toward the guardrail and gazed down the embankment. There were skid marks, it looked as if the car had hit a wet patch, lost control, and then rolled down the embankment.

Rain poured down on them, wetting through his shirt where it wasn't covered by his vest. He hadn't bothered with pulling his blue LAPD jacket on before leaving his car. Julio had to squint through the rain to see the car. Water was rushing in around it. He swore quietly. Whether it was their car or not, he was there now. He looked over as Tao joined him, and accepted the extra flashlight that he held. They both started down the slippery, muddy embankment.

The water was cold, and already over their knees, covering the passenger windows. "Let's work fast," Julio said. He walked around the other side of the car, to the driver's side, checking the doors. The car was still running, and the auto-locks were engaged. "Break it out," he said. Without being able to see into the vehicle, they had to kneel in the water, break the glass with the butts of their flashlights. He pulled his gun and nodded his readiness, while Tao knelt down to break out the window.

Water rushed into the car. Tao leaned back while Julio leaned down to shine his light into the car. "It's him!" Julio cocked his weapon and kept it pointed at him. "He's not moving."

Tao moved closer, his own weapon drawn, and peered inside more cautiously. Water was moving around them, getting higher, and filling the car now at an alarming rate. "He appears to be unconscious. Dammit." His jaw clenched. He reached in, but cocked his weapon as he did it, and turned Stroh's head toward him. He did not move or respond. Tao shined his light into the car, scanning the passenger seat and what he could see of the back. "I don't see the captain."

"Camera footage showed him putting her into the trunk." He kept his weapon and light pointed at Stroh. "Is he alive?"

Tao checked for a pulse, shook his head. "I don't feel anything. We can't leave him in the car." He sighed, hating it as much as he knew that Julio would hate it.

"Dammit." Julio swore again. He ground his teeth together. They didn't have time for this. "Alright, cut him out!" He reached back and pulled his knife out of his belt and held it out to Tao.

Mike used it to cut through the straps of the seat belt. He caught Stroh when he slumped toward the roof of the car and drug him through the open window. He was all limp weight. While Julio held his gun on the man, in case he was screwing with them, Tao drug him over toward the embankment. He drew him out of the water, far enough that he wouldn't be in any immediate danger. Then he stepped back, held his own weapon on him. "I've got him."

Julio breathed out and turned. He holstered his own weapon and hurried back to the car. He used the flashlight to break out the back passenger window. Then he climbed into the car. He reached into the water and felt around until he found the release on the seats. He swore as he pulled on it. It was jammed. Julio jerked on it again, and finally it gave way. Water flowed out of the trunk as he pulled the seat back up, making his stomach twist. He blocked it with his knee, to keep it open and leaned down, shining his light into the trunk.

His chest clenched. Julio began to pray as he reached in and curled his hand around a wrist that was far too cold. He tugged on her, drew her through the water and toward him. He was careful of her head as he pulled her through the opening. Her hair was wet, obscuring her face. "Please, please, please," he murmured, and as he pulled her into his arms, he swept her hair back. Bruises stood out in stark contrast to her pale face. Her lips were blue. He leaned down. She was limp and not breathing.

There were voices behind him. Movement in the water. He heard Cooper and then he heard Amy.

Julio felt tears stinging at his eyes as he backed out of the car. He pulled his Captain's limp body with him. Rain continued to pour down on them, but he barely noticed as he hefted her up and into his arms. He started toward the embankment with her, stone faced and still praying. Julio hit his knees when they reached the muddy embankment. He lay her down on it and began checking her body for any obvious wounds. When he didn't find anything, he leaned over her. He tipped her head back, and while the spotlights shined overhead, he began doing CPR. He prayed it wasn't too late.

Tao placed a hand against his head. He staggered a bit where he stood. He looked up the embankment. Provenza was standing at the opening in the guardrail, keeping an eye on them. He shook his head slowly. "Get EMS down here," he shouted.

Amy shrugged out of her jacket. She knelt on the Captain's other side, covered her legs with it. Her dress had ridden up, and the wet material was clinging to her hips. "Julio…" She said his name quietly. Her heart was breaking. Tears were stinging her eyes.

"No!" He glared at her. "It's not over yet. She's not gone!" He shook his head and leaned over her again. He continued the chest compressions, counted out each one, and then he breathed for her. "I promised Rusty," he muttered. "I promised Rusty…"

Sykes leaned back on her heels. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. She cast a miserable look at Cooper. The rain mingled with her tears, providing the perfect camouflage. "Coop."

He walked around more slowly. He knelt down beside her. He considered the situation for a moment. Then he sighed. "I'll help." He exchanged a look with the other man and nodded once. They traded off. He started the chest compressions, and let Julio continue breathing for her.

They continued working while they waited for EMS to join them. They could hear the sirens. They just sounded too far away. Tao was getting ready to call it, he was ready to pull Julio away and let her go. Let her have that much dignity at least. His jaw clenched. "Julio…"

"Shut up!" He shouted. He leaned down, he thought he'd felt something. "Again," he told Cooper. "Keep going." He was counting it out in his head, still praying. "You wanna tell Flynn that his girl is dead because we gave up too soon, you go right ahead Mike. I'm not doing it." He shot a pained look back at the other man. "He wouldn't give up on Cathy."

That was a low blow, but Mike knew that he was right. It wasn't that he wanted to give up. He just didn't want to drag this out, to make it worse. He exhaled quietly. "Then keep going," he told them.

Cooper stopped compressions when Julio waved him off. His brows drew together. He shook his head. "Man, I don't know…"

"Shh!" Julio leaned his head to one side, listening. He waved him off. The first one was hard to make out with the sound of the rain and the helicopters overhead. Julio reached for her, tipped her head back again, he reached down, rubbed his knuckles hard against her chest. She jerked.

Tao's eyes widened. "Over!" He joined them, slid to his knees beside Julio. "Turn her over!" He helped them roll her onto her side as she began to convulse, gagging and coughing and struggling for air. He placed one hand beneath her neck, steadying it. Then he placed the heel of his hand between her shoulder blades. He stroked, hard, in an up and down motion to help her expel the water from her lungs.

Above them, EMS started down the embankment.

"Down here," Tao shouted. "We have an officer down over here, and that one… I think is dead." He hoped to hell that he was.

The two paramedics teams split between the two bodies. Julio and Tao were pressed backward as they knelt. "Unconscious when I found her," Sanchez reported. "She wasn't breathing, but there's no sign of obvious injury. The car had only been in the water for a couple of minutes when we got here."

"We just got her back," Cooper continued. He stepped back, pulled Amy with him.

There was a flurry of activity as EMS took over. They moved the Captain onto a backboard. She was intubated, and they began bagging her as they moved up the embankment. They needed her out of the rain as they got to work. The other team did the same with Stroh. Uniformed officers surrounded him as he placed in the second ambulance.

Minutes that felt like hours stretched by before the two ambulances pulled away. There were two uniformed officers in one of them, and a police escort surrounding it. So far, Stroh still wasn't breathing, but the paramedics had to try, at least until he was pronounced.

Cooper looked over at the others. They were all rain soaked and dazed. Provenza looked like he had aged a few dozen years. "Did that really just happen?" he asked.

Tao shook his head slowly. "I think it did." He glanced beside him, at Julio. "You," he began. He stared at his partner. "You are stubborn, and hot headed, and I think I love you for it." He gave his shoulder a playful push.

Julio exhaled a breath that he hadn't realized he was still holding. He staggered a bit, felt light headed. "I promised Rusty," he said again.

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

There was an incessant beeping in the room. It pulled at her. It called to her from the deepest sleep that she had ever felt. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Andy to turn off the alarm, but she couldn't seem to make her mouth work. She tried to roll over and nudge him, but her body felt heavy. It didn't seem to want to move. Sleep pulled at her, but she couldn't quite slip back into it. The beeping continued.

It frustrated her that she couldn't seem to shake the heavy feeling. She worked at it until finally she managed to blink open her eyes. They fluttered and finally opened. She stared at the ceiling above her. It seemed oddly foreign. She squinted against the blurriness of her eyesight. Her arm flexed, as she thought to reach for her glasses. She couldn't quite move it, however. Sharon rolled her head to the side and realized that it felt heavy and immovable because something was laying on it, or rather someone.

She hummed, tried to speak again, but the noise vibrated through her throat and set it to throbbing. Sharon frowned, even as her fingers flexed. Her hand slid toward the head that was laying on the mattress beside her. She lifted her hand, stroked her index and middle finger against the cheek nearby.

He twitched when something touched him. It happened again, and Rusty lifted his head. He blinked sleepily. Rusty rubbed a hand over his face. Beneath his hand, the arm moved. He looked up and found a familiar pair of green eyes staring back at him. Air rushed out of his lungs. He blinked a few more times, to clear the sudden stinging in his own eyes. "Hey." Rusty sat straighter in his chair. "Emily. Ricky." They were asleep. Ricky was slumped in a chair by the wall, Emily was on the small, hard sofa that was beneath the windows on the other side of the room.

Her eyes closed again. There was movement in the room. She hummed a second time. It hurt. Sharon lifted a hand toward her throat. She tried to swallow but her mouth and throat were dry and her throat was throbbing at the attempt. Her lips parted, she exhaled quietly. "Rusty…"

It was dry, croaked, like sandpaper. Rusty lay his hand on her arm. "It's okay," he said quietly. "It's from the tube. They just took it out last night. They said it would be sore." He looked over as his brother and sister joined him beside her. Emily on the other side of the bed, while Ricky sat on the mattress beside her legs, near him.

"Try some water." Emily reached for the cup on the table beside her bed, and the pitcher of cool water. She filled it and placed a straw in it. "Rusty," she looked at her brother as she held the cup in front of their mother.

"Yeah." He leaned over and pressed the button on the side of the bed, raising her head. They lifted it just a bit. He glanced at Ricky as Emily helped her drink the water. When Emily leaned back again, Rusty rested his arms on his knees. "Better?"

"A little." Her throat wasn't throbbing quite as badly. She frowned again. "What happened?" It was all a bit fuzzy. She was trying to think back, but the last thing that she really remembered was reaching for the gun. Her eyes widened and she looked at her youngest son. "Rusty…"

"It's okay," he told her quickly. "I'm fine. Sharon, everything is okay, I promise." He paused for a moment, looked at the others. "Sharon, it's over. They got him. Everything is going to be okay now…"

"Phillip Stroh is in a locked hospital ward at county," Ricky told her. "He was DOA on scene, but the paramedics got him back on the way to the hospital. He had a pretty bad head injury from the accident. If he wakes up, there will be some pretty serious deficits. They're trying to decide how legal it is to take him off life support. Either way, he's never going to try to hurt either of you again." He reached down and touched her leg. "You're both safe now."

Her eyes closed. There was relief at that. Sharon drew a thin breath. She turned her hand over beneath Rusty's and wrapped her fingers, tightly, around his. "If everything is so okay," she said slowly, haltingly as her vocal chords strained against the swelling and rawness in her throat, "then where is Andy?" She opened her eyes and let her gaze move over each of her children.

Emily touched her mother's hand. She smiled down at her. "Mom, relax. You're going to make the heart monitors go crazy, and then the nurses are going to get cranky. We made him go home last night." She turned her hand over, looked at the watch on her wrist. "It's just after eight. I'm sure he's already here. I'll go and check, if not, I'll call him. Okay?"

Sharon looked from Emily to Rusty. He met her gaze, but his smile was less sure. "You've been out of it for a couple of days," he said, answering the question he knew was on her mind. As always, Ricky and Emily wanted to try and protect her. He'd learned, though, that hiding the truth from Sharon wasn't protecting anyone. Not even when it was just about Jack. "Sharon… just don't freak out, okay?" He glanced at the others, then leaned closer to her. "When Stroh took you, Andy walked in on it. Stroh shot him with your gun. But he's okay," he quickly added. "He had to have surgery, but they released him, and he's fine. I promise!"

"He took it in the shoulder," Ricky explained, picking up where Rusty left off. He thought that they had all agreed _not_ to tell their mother about the shooting. They were going to wait, do it when she could see Andy for herself. "He's got a broken collar bone, and a concussion from where he fell. They released him a couple of days ago."

"You've been here for three days," Emily said quietly. "They weren't really sure if you were going to wake up." She chewed on her lip. "They thought…"

"You died." Rusty shrugged when they glared at him. "Hey, I live with her, okay? I know what Sharon can handle and what she can't. You two, you kind of suck at it. No offense."

Ricky shrugged. "He might have a point. We kind of pegged the whole dad situation wrong. Although telling someone they died?" He made a face at his brother. "Subtlety little bro, it might be something we should look up in the dictionary later." He rubbed his mom's leg beneath the blanket. "Technically," he told her, "The not breathing and not pulse having is a sign that you could have been in trouble."

"Julio wouldn't give up on you." Rusty grinned widely at her. "Lieutenant Cooper should tell that story. Amy can't do it, she gets too emotional." He rolled his eyes. "It's kind of a long story, and I'm not sure that we should tell all of it right now."

"They didn't know if you were going to be you." Emily said. "They've been doing tests for days, they finally decided yesterday that there were no obvious neurological deficits," she looked at Ricky. "Was that the word?"

"That's the one." He shrugged. "They had you on a respirator because your lungs were in bad shape. You kind of drowned," Ricky told her.

"Kind of?" Rusty stared at him. "Is that what you call being subtle?"

"Okay enough." Sharon closed her eyes again. She loved them, but they were giving her a headache with the constant back and forth. "I think I get the point," she croaked. "Emily, can you please…"

"Go and find your boyfriend?" She pushed away from the bed. "I'm on it. Just try not to do anything too crazy while I'm gone."

"I will refrain." She sighed, and regretted it when her throat stung and her lungs ached. There was a sharp pain in her upper body that made her jaw clench. Sharon closed her eyes. She realized now, as the fog wore off, that everything hurt.

"Let the nurses know that she's awake too," Ricky said quietly. He watched the lines around her eyes and mouth become more pronounced. "It's okay, Mom. Just relax. You're pretty beat up. Some of it is from the wreck, and we think some of it is from kicking the crap out of Stroh. You're pretty tough, who knew?"

Rusty raised his hand. "I kind of did." He smirked at his brother. "Dude, eight flights of stairs, fire extinguisher, bare feet. Did you think I was exaggerating?"

"Well you do like to get a little melodramatic," Ricky gave his shoulder a hard nudge.

"Me?" Rusty snorted at him. "Okay, let's discuss melodramatic. Who banned everyone from Sharon's room and wouldn't let anyone near her except the medical staff because no one would tell you what happened, or what was going on?"

Sharon's eyes opened. She stared at her son. "Ricky!"

"Okay." Ricky held up his hands. "He could be overstating things a bit…"

"Lieutenant Provenza made him sit in a corner in timeout until he could control himself," Rusty said.

"Yes," Ricky said slowly, when his mother glowered at him. "That actually happened, but, there was a whole situation going on. You're not getting the whole story here."

Rusty raised his hand again. "By banning everyone, I do mean _everyone_. So… that marriage thing you're putting off. It might be time to rethink that decision."

"Now mom…"

"_Ricky_." She stared at him, wide-eyed and horrified. "Please tell me that you didn't."

"He did." The voice came from the door. Andy stepped into the room, Emily behind him. He looked tired and drawn, with his arm in a sling. He walked toward the bed, stopped beside her and sat down on the mattress next to her hip. Andy shrugged his uninjured shoulder. He grinned at her. "It was a rough night. Don't blame the kid. There was a lot going on and he was trying to get everyone's attention. It worked." Andy shook his head at the question in her eyes. "I'll tell you about it later." For now, he reached out and settled the back of his hand against her cheek. "Hi."

Rusty looked up at Ricky. The two shared a look and then together, they rose. They strode toward the door, each catching one of Emily's arms as they passed her, and drew their sister out of the room with them. "Hey! What are…"

"Trust me," Rusty said, "it's nothing that you _ever_ want to see."

As the door closed behind them, Andy chuckled quietly. "You know, it occurs to me, between yours and mine, we could be completely outnumbered."

"Hm." Her eyes closed again. "They would like to think that's true." She forced them open and looked up at him. Sharon lifted a hand, let it pass gently over his injured arm. "Andy…" His name was a whisper on her lips. "What happened? The kids…" It was disjointed and jumbled, and she wasn't entirely certain that she understood what they were trying to tell her. She loved all three of them, but there had been too many voices and too much to take in.

"In a minute." He leaned over her, let his eyes study her face. His hand cupped her cheek. While his thumb traced the ugly bruise that marred her jaw, he inhaled a shuddering breath. "I thought I lost you for a minute."

"As I understand it," she said quietly, "For a minute or two, you did." Her hand curled around his wrist. Sharon turned her face into his hand. "From the way everything hurts, I'm sure the kids weren't exaggerating that."

"No." His lips moved over her cheek. He tucked his face against her neck and held her, just as gently as he could, and as much as he was able with only one good arm. "They weren't exaggerating anything. It hasn't been an easy couple of days. So can I just have a minute to—"

"Okay." She moved a hand into his hair and held him. Her eyes closed. She felt the tremor that ran through him. She rested her head against his and hummed quietly. Her head was full of questions, but they could wait. Sharon let her lips brush his cheek, his ear, and the side of his head. "I'm still here," she whispered, knowing that was what he needed to hear.

"Yeah." He moved away from her, only at the knock on the door. Andy sighed. Hospitals weren't really a great place for privacy. "Come in," he called. He glanced back and felt some relief that it was only the nurse. He stood and moved out of her way. He rounded the bed to claim Rusty's chair.

It took ten minutes for the nurse to check the monitors, Sharon's IV, and make sure that she was fully responsive. Before she left, she injected the pain medication into her IV. They would only have a few minutes before it took effect, she warned.

Sharon waited for the door to close behind her before she reached for his hand again. She gave it a tug, pulled him toward her. "Think you can tell me what happened now?"

"Always so impatient." Andy sat on the bed beside her. "How much do you remember? It might help if I know where to pick it up at."

"Just…" She thought back as far as she could. "I was getting ready for dinner. I heard something and I turned, I thought it was you, but it was Stroh. He got into the condo somehow, but I'm sure I locked the door."

"You did." Andy sighed. "The building manager is dead. Stroh killed him, took the key we left with him for the realtor. He used it to get into the condo. While he was in the manager's office, he found out about the cameras, knew where every one of them was. He was able to avoid them, so the other security we had in place didn't even matter in the end. The two of you fought. Stroh had your gun, but somehow you managed to get your hands on my backup weapon. You shot him, but he hit you with something, the lamp we think. That's going to be the headache. You've had a pretty bad concussion."

"That much I remember," Sharon said. "Well, not the lamp, but everything before that. Then what happened?"

"He had you when I got home," Andy explained. "I surprised him. I don't think he was expecting you to fight back as hard as you did. He didn't think you'd be able to shoot him. That took him some time to deal with. It was a through and through, upper arm. He stopped to bandage it." Andy shook his head, he would never get over the arrogance of that psychopath. "I walked in as he was carrying you out. He shot me, and apparently I hit my head when I went down." He nodded to his injured shoulder. "Rusty found me a couple of minutes later. That's the real miracle." He leaned forward, squeezed her hand. "He was coming up the elevator as Stroh was taking you down the stairs. Another minute, Sharon, just one, and Stroh could have had him in the parking garage."

Her eyes closed. She felt sick at the thought. "He didn't." Sharon held on to that. "So Rusty found you, and obviously he called for help…"

"Yeah. Within a little while they had pulled all the cameras, set up checkpoints, and had birds in the air. A black and white spotted your car." At her confused look, he shook his head. "Sorry. Stroh put you in the trunk of your car, that's how he got out of the garage." When she nodded, that now she was caught up, he kept going. "In the end, between the beating you gave him, and blood loss from being shot, the idiot dirtbag lost control of the car in the rain. It rolled down an embankment, and with all of the flooding…" His hand tightened around hers. "Technically, you drowned. Our guys were practically right on top of him when he had the accident. Julio got there within a couple of minutes. He and Tao pulled you both out of the car. They didn't know how long you had been down, or if you were even coming back…" Andy looked away from her then. He studied their joined hands. He couldn't think about it. Hearing it was bad enough, repeating it was even harder.

Her fingers tightened around his. Sharon tugged on his hand again. She pulled him closer, eased over in the bed to make room for him. When he stretched out alongside her, she settled into his side. "Rusty said that Julio wouldn't give up," she said quietly, prompting him to continue. She needed to know. She needed to hear all of it. "What happened, Andy?"

"He's right." His good arm was around her. Andy moved his hand into her hair. "Mike told me that he and Amy were ready to give up. They thought you were already gone. Cooper didn't want to be the guy that had to pull Julio off of you, so he decided to help, at least until the paramedics got there. He figured that they could at least try, until the medics had to call it. They got you back instead. But no one knew what was going to happen. The doctors thought that you might have been down for too long. They were worried that _if_ you woke up, you might not… you wouldn't be _you_ anymore, Sharon. I was out for a lot of it. I woke up later. You inhaled a lot of water and they had you on a respirator. The doctors were talking about taking you off of it, and checking for deficits, and whether or not to continue care if you weren't neurologically sound. It was a lot for the kids to deal with. On top of that, there were all the questions about what happened with Stroh, and if anyone would be able to speak to you and when… The DA's office was being pushy, ultimately it was always their ass on the line, the County lost Stroh, not us. FID was sniffing around, because technically I was shot with your gun, and Stroh was shot with mine. Add in the City Attorney's office trying to make sure that everyone's asses were covered, and it was a crazy, unorganized mess." Andy looked down at her. "We really kind of missed you."

"But in the middle of all of that," she said carefully, trying to make sure that she understood it. "My son decided to have a tantrum?" Sharon had her head resting against his uninjured shoulder. "Tell me how that's a good thing?"

"It shut everyone up." Andy combed his fingers through her hair. "Everyone was being pulled in too many directions, including the kids. I wasn't exactly the most cheerful person on the planet when I woke up either."

"I can imagine." Her lips curved into a smile. He was never exactly pleasant when he was injured, and he would have been in a considerable amount of pain and limited on what he could have, due to his addiction issues. "So what exactly happened?"

"Ricky shut down access to your room. He told the medical staff that no one but family was allowed inside. He limited that to himself and the other two. I know how that sounds, but I was just released and Nicole was trying to get me to go home. Neither of them will admit it, but I think she was in on it. Like I said, we're outnumbered." He let his head turn, settled his lips against the top of her head. "While everyone was fighting over how they were going to get past Ricky, Provenza did an end run around all of them. He snuck into the room anyway, just to find out what the hell was going on. After Rusty and Ricky explained it, and all the different directions they were both being pulled in, he called Taylor. Rios and Lim were told to leave, he would be contacting both of their offices when you were available to answer questions. Until then, no one even knew if you were going to wake up again, so there was no point in harassing the family. He shut FID down and sent them packing, for the same reason. It was pretty obvious Stroh got your gun in the fight, and that was how he shot me with it. He told them to use what they had, and since there was really no other choice, they did. In the meantime, despite the fact that he was technically in a coma, McGinnis had guys on your room, since until yesterday, Stroh was in a room upstairs. Once everything calmed down, the ban was lifted. Oh, and the car is totaled, the condo is a crime scene, and we're technically living in a hotel."

"It sounds like I certainly missed a lot," she said quietly. In the midst of all of that, the kids had been made to feel threatened. Sharon made a mental note to deal with that later, perhaps when her head wasn't pounding and it didn't hurt to actually speak. Or move. Or breathe, she added mentally. "Is that all of it?" She looked up at him, curiosity still lighting her gaze.

"You know everything I know now," he said. "If anything else has been going on, they haven't clued me in. Honestly…" Andy sighed. "I really haven't been paying attention Sharon. I've been a little preoccupied." His hand moved out of her hair, it slid down her back. He pulled her closer. "I was a little too worried about losing you." He had woken up confused, not entirely remembering how he got injured. The memory had returned all too quickly, however, and with it, the panic. By that point they had found her, but there were still so many unanswered questions about her condition.

There was pain in his eyes, and she knew that it went beyond the physical. There was fear there too, and it was one that she knew well. Sharon exhaled quietly as she closed her eyes. She tucked her face into the crook of his neck, and careful of his injured shoulder, she settled her arm around his middle. It was a fear that she had felt, while she had fought. Pain that went bone deep. Thoughts that she might not see them again, that it wouldn't be enough, that Rusty would be in danger, all of those things had crossed her mind during those harried, desperate minutes.

She didn't have very long. The kids would only leave them alone for a few more minutes and already she could feel the pain medication pulling her under. It made her eyes heavy and her body feel lighter. She supposed that was the point, since every part of her ached. Sharon kept her eyes closed, it was just easier that way, for the pounding in her head.

"Speaking of Stroh," she said quietly, and didn't really want to. That man had invaded enough of their lives. "What exactly is going on there?"

"The doctors are calling it neurologically incapacitated," Andy said, then he snorted. "Basically, he's not exactly brain dead, at least not yet, but they don't think he's going to wake up either. There's very little brain activity, and the doctors have said, even if by some sick, twisted chance he does wake up, he won't have any higher brain function. The county and the DA's office are trying to decide what they can do about that. Since there was no reason to keep him here, they moved him to the hospital ward at County. It doesn't matter," he said darkly. "There will be no more deals for Phillip Stroh. He killed a judge, the building manager, and he tried to kill you. Hell, no telling who else in the last six months died because of him. He's done, the DA's office has already said, if he comes out of this with the ability to take a deal, they're taking the death penalty off the table. They'll give him life, lock him away, and call it done. Maximum security this time. If he doesn't… well, let the County worry about it. He's their problem. It's over."

"Over," she repeated in a soft whisper. Sharon hummed thoughtfully. "And Rusty?" She asked him. "He has an amazing capacity for guilt. How is _he_ with all of this?"

"He was blaming himself," Andy admitted. "I think we finally got it through to him that it didn't matter. You were never going to let him turn down security." A smile tugged at his lips. "He was a little pissed about that at first, but he got over it pretty quick. That's the advantage of hindsight. You did your job, kept him protected, and he didn't know about it until it was over, until he realized that having the security was the right move. It's over now, and he's holding on to that. He was more worried about you, though. I don't think he's had a lot of time to process everything."

"Hm." She nuzzled his neck, already feeling the drugged haze. "He will," she mumbled. "I'll talk to him." There was time for that now. They could finally move beyond Phillip Stroh. The cloud had lifted. Finally they could live their lives. "He'll be okay." If there was one thing that she knew, it was how amazingly resilient Rusty could be. There were plenty of people around him who could, and would, help. He'd learned to accept that. Her son would be okay. He was safe now. Sharon sighed as a weight seemed to lift away from them. Rusty hadn't wanted to live in a prison, but it was only now that the bars seemed to be receding. She hummed again. She felt weightless, but that was the medication. "I love you," she murmured.

"Yes." His hand settled against her lower back. Andy closed his eyes. He let the feel of her settle him. "I love you," he whispered, in a voice that was thick with emotion. He had come too close to not being able to tell her that again, to not being able to hold her. She was there, however, alive and functioning, warm against him. He leaned his head against hers, enjoyed the simple feel of her, the warmth of her small body as it curled against his side, and the feel of her breath against his neck as she settled in to sleep, drawn under by the pain medication.

Andy looked up at the sound of the door opening. He watched Rusty poke his head into the room. He nodded once, and gestured with his fingers for the kid to come on in. "They gave her something for the pain," he said quietly. "She'll probably be out for a while."

Rusty nodded. "I was just coming in to tell you, Nicole is here." He grinned. "You're busted. She found out you drove yourself instead of waiting for her."

"Oh." Andy nodded slowly, carefully, not wanting to jostle Sharon. He made a mental note that they should talk soon. Apparently their kids were a little confused about _who_ was in charge, hers and his. "Do me a favor, huh kid? Tell Nicole I'm a little busy right now. She can yell at me later." Preferably when Sharon was awake again and he had backup. They really were outnumbered.

"I can do that." Rusty hovered near the end of the bed. He looked at Sharon. She was still pale and bruised, but seemed oddly more at peace now. Rusty sighed. "Is she like, okay?"

"She will be." Andy's hand was slowly, gently, stroking her back. "She was more worried about you."

Rusty rolled his eyes at that. A small smile curved his lips. "She always is. Okay, since she's asleep, I think we're going to get out of here for a while." None of them particularly wanted to leave, but they didn't want to intrude either, and Sharon looked perfectly content where she was. They would go back to the hotel, shower and change.

"I'll call you," Andy promised him, "If anything happens." He arched a brow at the kid. "Sharon is okay. You can leave, Rusty. She'll still be here when you get back."

He exhaled quietly and nodded. That had been his worry. It was what all of them had worried about actually. "We're going. I called Lieutenant Provenza, let him know that she was awake. He's going to come by later. He also said that if they don't release the Condo today, he'd see about getting us access, so that we can get some things for her. Hospital blue, not her color."

Andy glanced down at her and smiled. "No, I don't think it is. You know what to grab?"

Rusty rolled his eyes. "I have lived with her way longer than you have. I even know which sweater is her favorite." He flashed an amused smile at the Lieutenant. "Is there anything you want me to grab while we're there?"

He thought about it. Then Andy grinned. "No." His hand stroked along her back again. "I've got everything I need."

"Wow." Rusty turned away. "That was corny." He shook his head as he walked back to the door. "We'll be back in a couple of hours." Rusty glanced back, but Flynn was already focused on Sharon again. He told Nicole once that he was living in the middle of this, in the middle of them. It was a little naive, now that he thought back on it. There wasn't really a way to prepare for the reality of _them_. There was no middle. It was just them.

Maybe that they were _living_ was a little bit of an understatement too. It was like they had all been stuck, held somehow between dusk and dawn, waiting for a nightmare to end. Finally it was, and _finally_, tomorrow was going to be a brand new day.


	5. Chapter 5

**If Tomorrow Never Comes**

**by Kadi**

**Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **It's not my sandbox, and they're not my toys... I just really love playing there!

* * *

**Chapter 5**

In the end, although they were allowed to pick up a few personal items for Sharon, it was several more days before the condo was released as a crime scene. It took almost that long for Sharon to be released from the hospital. Between the drowning and the concussion, she wasn't fighting too hard to be released. She spent an additional four days in the hospital after waking, and when she was finally allowed to leave, she had to spend the night in a hotel with the others.

Sharon waited until she was out of the hospital to begin negotiating for the return of her condo. It was unclear as to why the department was still holding it as a crime scene, but full investigation showed that it was FID, waiting to finally question her and close their case. She didn't agree with their tactics, it was not how she had trained them. It wasn't her department anymore, however, and there was nothing that she could do to curb the enthusiasm of the Lieutenant that had taken over in her absence.

It was not until she was settled at home and it was obvious that she was recovering and comfortable that she managed to convince Ricky and Emily to return to their respective cities. They lingered, just a few more days, but first Emily and then Ricky flew home.

In the aftermath of the Phillip Stroh saga life was slowly returning to normal. The man who had terrorized them was still lingering, trapped in a hell of his own, between life and death, but no longer a nightmare to hang over their heads. Rusty, after a lengthy talk with Sharon and a visit with Doctor Joe was back at work. The security detail which had surrounded him was no longer needed. A new day had dawned, bright and full of hope.

Life went on.

Any trace of the attack was now gone. The broken bookshelf in the bedroom had been removed. The locks were changed again, and a new routine was in place with the realtor for the sale of the condo. It was still moving forward. Sharon reflected on that as she sat, wrapped in a blanket, comfortably resting on the sofa in her living room. Her legs were draped over Andy's lap. She glanced at him over the top of her glasses. A smile tugged at her lips. His attention was focused on a stack of papers in his hand. His arm was still in a sling, and like her, he had not yet been released to return to work. That date would be on them all too soon, but for now, there was nothing at all for them to do but rest and recover.

Sharon let her eyes return to the papers in her lap. She continued to smile. There was a hand curled around her ankle, fingers absently stroking as he paged through a selection of property listings. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth as the urge to laugh came upon her. His feet were propped on the coffee table in front of them, comfortably crossed at the ankles. There was a game playing on the television, the volume was pitched low, providing little more than background noise. It was, quite simply, just a normal, lazy afternoon.

A low hum drew his attention. Andy glanced over. Her hair was drawn over her shoulder. The fingers of one hand were absently stroking her neck. He watched her, chewing on her lip, fighting a smile. The corners of her eyes crinkled, and although her gaze was lowered, he could tell that her eyes were sparkling. "What?" He asked, wondering what had her so amused.

"Nothing." The corners of her mouth twitched. Her lips pursed. She continued to study the papers in her hand. His fingers danced across the bottom of her foot. Her leg twitched in his grasp. She looked up at him. Laughter, carefully suppressed, danced in her eyes. "You."

His brows lifted. His head tilted. "Me?" Andy shook his head at her. "What did I do?" His hand slid up her leg, beneath the blanket, to rest against her knee. "Let me in on the joke."

Sharon glanced at the papers in his hand. She shook her head at him. Her smile warmed, growing more affectionate. "You need glasses." She had been observing him, holding the papers at a distance, and occasionally squinting. It wasn't the first time that it had come up.

"I do not." He turned his attention back to the listings in his hand. His fingers teased her knee. "I can see just fine." He was going to have to cave soon, he knew. Getting old was hell, but at least they were there to _get_ old.

"Mmhm." She didn't sound convinced. Sharon continued to smile at him. "That's why it looks like you're sitting over there playing the trombone. That can't be good for your shoulder."

"It probably isn't." He grinned. "But my other hand is busy." When she squirmed, just a bit, he cast an amused look at her. "Yes?"

She sighed loudly at him. Sharon lifted the papers in front of her face. "Fine. Have it your way."

"I will." Andy turned his attention back to his own selection of listings. He thought he heard her mutter something that sounded a little like _stubborn_, but he decided to let it go. Instead, he passed one of the listing printouts to her. "Look at that one. Bigger than we wanted, but it might be worth it."

Sharon took it from him and turned it toward herself. She read over it quickly. "It has a yard." Her nose wrinkled. Neither of them were particularly interested in yard upkeep. His bungalow had a small yard, and she knew that he had paid a kid on his block to keep it mowed. It was a point in favor of living in a high rise, but the condos they had looked at did not have quite the space that they were seeking. As the previous week with all of her kids at home, and his coming and going, had proved.

"Yeah," he wasn't thrilled about that either. There were ways around it, though. They could figure out an option for the upkeep. "It kind of had me at garage apartment."

"Really?" Sharon's brows lifted. Her eyes sparkled again. "Looking for an escape already? Hm, I'm not sure that's entirely the point, Andy."

He flashed a bland look at her. "It occurs to me, Rusty comes by it naturally. You're a damned comedian." He rolled his eyes at her. "I was thinking about the kid, actually."

"Ah." She smiled as she read through the listing a second time. "That's better than my second thought, which was that you were planning to move Provenza in with us."

Andy snorted a quiet laugh. "We put the old man though hell this week, and we're going to be paying for that, but no. I draw the line."

Sharon hummed thoughtfully. When he had visited, after she woke up, he had seemed to have aged quite a bit. She supposed he was due a pass, at least for a while. They weren't the only ones that were recovering from the Stroh ordeal. "The apartment does have appeal," she admitted. It would allow Rusty to stay with her for a while longer, while providing him the autonomy of living on his own. He would be close, but not underfoot. "I'm just worried that in twenty years, after I've had hip replacement and you've had a couple of knee surgeries we may regret those stairs," she said, of the second floor. It was a house, in a fairly decent part of the city. Priced at the upper edge of what they had decided they were willing to pay, and sporting three bedrooms along with that yard.

"In twenty years, if we're still around," Andy told her, "I'm pretty sure our kids will have put us in a home, so it's not going to be an issue."

She laughed at that. "I don't know, Nicole and Daniel love me. You on the other hand…" She squealed when his hand squeezed her knee. "Yes okay," she reached down and swatted lightly at his hand. "I'm sure you're probably right."

"That's better." Andy made a face at her. "And why are my knees in question here? You're the one with all the crazy heels. I just like to look at them."

"Yes, but you do like to kick down doors," She pointed out. "While it is a bit thrilling to watch, you're going to pay for it one of these days."

Andy looked at her. He flashed a crooked, arrogant grin. "I thought already was?" His brows bobbed playfully.

Her eyes narrowed. "Well, if you think that being with me is in some way payment for…" She stopped and shook her head. "Okay, there's no way at all that I can finish that in a way that doesn't sound completely bitchy. You win." She sighed. That round had to go to him. She passed the real estate listing back to him. "Put it on the maybe pile."

"You know, that maybe pile is a hell of a lot bigger than the _we should look at this one_ pile." Andy set her feet off his lap and stood at the sound of a knock at the door. "It's going to be hard to move without actually finding a place to move in to."

Sharon arched a brow at him. "I thought the maybe pile was the _let__'__s look at it_ choices." His bland look just made her smile sweetly at him. "Yes?"

"Trouble." He pointed at her. "My partner told me that you would be trouble." When she only hummed in response, he turned his attention to the door. He opened it to reveal Julio standing on the other side, holding a box in his hands. He waved him inside and stepped back. "Hey, Sharon, for the record, if Provenza isn't moving in with us, we should talk about Sanchez…"

She sighed as she rolled her eyes heavenward. "He calls me trouble," she muttered. She exhaled quietly and smiled brightly at the Detective as he came around with the box. "Hello, Julio."

"Ma'am." He lifted the box in his hands before he placed it on the coffee table. "I brought the things that SID took for finger printing. It doesn't need to be logged into evidence anymore." Julio stood back, pushed his hands into his pockets. "Your gun, and the Lieutenant's, is inside. There are a couple of other things too." He paused for a moment, looked between the two of them, and then his attention settled on the Captain. "The case has been closed. Phillip Stroh passed away this morning at County."

Sharon hadn't known how she would feel about that when it happened. It had seemed like more of a possibility as the days went on, but she had tried to put it out of her mind. They all had. Whatever happened to Stroh now was beyond them. They viewed him as being out of their lives. Now he was. Truly and finally. There was a moment when his name was mentioned that her stomach twisted, then there was nothing. She looked at Andy and there was a feeling of such relief that it was almost painful.

As he sat beside her, Sharon lay a hand on Andy's thigh. She leaned into his side and took a moment to simply breathe. It was difficult, wrapping her mind around a reality in which there was really a world that no longer had Phillip Stroh in it. "Does Rusty know yet?" She asked, letting her eyes lift to the detective again.

"No." Julio shrugged. "We thought you might want to tell him. The Lieutenant was going to come by, but…" Julio smiled at them. "He's stuck in a meeting with Chief Taylor." His dark eyes sparkled. "He promised that he's going to have a very long talk with you about that when you come back."

"He finally decided that he doesn't want your job." Andy slipped a hand beneath her hair to rest against the back of her neck. His thumb stroked gently, soothingly. "We'll talk to the kid about it," he said. "That's news he's going to want."

"Yes," Sharon breathed quietly. She shook her head as the initial shock cleared. "Thank you, Julio. That's…" It was never _good_ to hear that a life had been lost, but she thought that she might be forgiven for feeling relieved about this one. If she wasn't, that was something that she could accept. Sharon shook her head. She smiled. "I'm glad that you're here actually. I've been wanting to talk to you." The detective had visited, but never at a time when she was alone, or they could actually talk.

Andy stood up. That was his cue. "I think we could use some coffee." He gave her hand a squeeze before letting go of it and stepping into the kitchen to give them just a little more privacy.

"Really ma'am," Julio shook his head. "That's not necessary. I should get back…" He shifted where he stood, looking uncomfortable.

She pointed a finger at him, and then at the chair nearest her. "Sit." A smile played at her lips. "Please?"

There was a slightly pleading look in her eyes. One he'd never seen before. Julio lowered himself into the chair. "Yes ma'am." He leaned forward, hands clasped together and hanging beneath his knees.

Sharon drew her knees beneath her on the sofa and resettled the blanket around her legs, getting comfortable again. She was still sore and tired easily. The pain in her upper body and chest, she had learned after waking, was the rib that he had broken while doing CPR. It was still incredibly painful, even almost a week later. She wasn't as young as she would like to be, it would take time to recover, at least physically. That brought her thoughts back around to why she wanted to speak with him. "I sat down with Lieutenants Tao and Cooper," she began. "They told me what happened." She watched him shift again, look away from her. "Julio," she spoke quietly, voice thick. "Thank you." He hadn't given up on her. When he looked at her, she gave him a watery smile. "Not for saving my life, you've done that before. It's our job. Thank you for keeping your promise to Rusty. There aren't many people in his life that have tried, and even fewer that he can trust. That means far more to me than anything else."

For a moment he just stared at her. It took him by surprise, but then Julio realized that it shouldn't have. It was exactly what he expected that she would say. It was just how she was. Nothing she did was ever about her. It was always about her kids, or their victims, or even her team. It was rarely, if ever, about her. When Julio thought about it, the only thing that she had really done recently that was for herself was this thing with Flynn. She kept her own life private, her needs and desire carefully concealed. Julio looked down at his hands and studied them. He shook his head. "What else was I going to do?" He took a breath and let it out slowly before he looked up again. "You never give up on us."

"No," she whispered. It was her turn to glance away. "I won't," she told him. "Not unless you give me a reason to." Sharon looked up at him, offered a warm smile. "Julio, I'm going to stand up for you when you're right, and I'll stand up for you when you're wrong, but I have to know that you're willing to accept that you _are_ wrong. It's the only way that I can stand up for you when you're in trouble. I know that you all hate it when I go on about the rules," she said, and her smile brightened just a bit. "The thing is, and this is the part that I've always had a hard time getting all of you to understand." She glanced into the kitchen, "Even him. They are there to protect you, as much as they are there to protect the public. When you're right, the rules keep over zealous defense attorneys and ignorant City Attorneys from undoing the good that you might have done. In some cases, even when you're wrong, they can allow you to have a second chance to do right again. They keep eager PSB officers from throwing the book at rookies, or even veterans who are just as fallible as the rest of us. So yes," she told him, by way of bringing her explanation purpose, "I will always go to bat for all of you, as much as I can, and even when you're in the wrong, I'm going to help as much as I'm able. So no, I wouldn't give up on you Julio, not without a very good reason."

He nodded quietly. He was looking at his hands again. Julio's jaw clenched. There was too much emotion and he didn't want her to see it all. The last week had felt like a roller coaster. "I know that ma'am," he said quietly. "I think I just forgot it for a little while. It felt like… well, for a while, it felt like I was on my own."

"I know." She smiled softly at him. "Believe it or not, that was the point. I needed you to be able to stand on your own, without any of us pointing out your mistakes, and realize what you had done. I needed you to want to fight your way back. It was the only way that you were going to be able to take control of the issues that were causing you temper to flare. I couldn't _make_ you work through your anger. I couldn't _force_ you to pass you evaluations. All I could do was be patient and hope for the best."

"But if I screw up again," Julio exclaimed, "you're the one who gets the reprimand. I just get fired. How is that fair? You haven't even done anything."

"How." Sharon's jaw snapped shut. She cast a look into the kitchen. She sighed. Perhaps they did need a bigger place, that was not a conversation that he should have overheard. They would need to work harder to keep those parts of their life separated, work and home. It was still a learning process. Sharon pressed her lips together and considered her next words carefully. "Julio, here's the thing. Your behavior is ultimately on me. I let it go on for far too long. I knew better. That was my screw up. If it happens again, I deserve the reprimand and for no other reason than because I let my drive to try and find my place on that team, and my fondness for you, override what I knew to be correct. _I_ ignored it. _I _let it go. _I_ am responsible for you. You are absolutely right, I didn't do anything, and I should have." She shook her head. "It's done now. I'm trusting you to keep working at it, and if it happens again. I'll take my reprimand, and I'll stand up for you as much as I can. Because I know that you're trying. That's all that I can ask from any of you."

His jaw was clenched tightly again. Once more his head was bowed. He nodded. Julio didn't trust himself to speak, and his view of his tightly clasped hands had grown a little blurry. When a hand touched his arm, he looked up. She had reached across the gap. Julio managed a small smile. "I understand," he told her. "I'll keep trying," he promised, since that was the only promise that he could make her. He could thank her, but he owed her much more than that.

"Good." Sharon leaned back again. She winced as she resettled and wrapped an arm around her middle. "Now tell me," she said. "Just how badly have you all destroyed my Murder Room."

Julio snorted quietly. "I'm sorry ma'am, but I was told not to really discuss work. Besides…" He grinned at her. His dark eyes sparkled. "Flynn's not there. There isn't a whole lot of trouble that the Lieutenant can get into without him."

"I heard that." Andy poured coffee, and pretended he hadn't heard the rest of their conversation. He carried their cups in before returning for his own. After settling in on the sofa, he drew Sharon's legs over his lap again. "For the record, he finds the trouble on his own and drags me with him. It has nothing to do with me being there."

"Of course it doesn't." Sharon smirked at him. "I have entire files on it, but if that's what makes you feel better…"

Andy's eyes narrowed. He decided to ignore her. He reached out and picked up the real estate listing that they were looking at prior to Julio's arrival. He passed it to the younger man. "Tell her we should buy that one."

He studied it for a moment and then he shrugged. "It's a house," Julio said. Wasn't one house as good as another? "What's wrong with it?"

"It's a little bigger than we really need," Sharon said. "Then there's the yard… that's going to be horrible to keep up with. Although the garage apartment _would_ be nice for Rusty," she agreed. "The rest of it…" She wasn't sold on the idea yet.

"It might not be too bad," Julio said. "The yard could be okay." He looked up at the Lieutenant. "We could start having the barbecues again. Like we used to do at Lieutenant Provenza's house, before his grill blew up that one time."

Sharon's brows shot into her hairline. "Blew up?" She asked carefully. "How does a grill just…" She stopped and looked at Andy while he laughed. "What did you do?"

"Me?" He shook his head. "Nope. I never even touched it. That one is on him, the wrong kind of charcoal, and too much lighter fluid."

"Everything was fine," Julio said, "until the neighbors called the fire department."

"Oh god." Sharon covered her eyes. "And this is supposed to make me _want_ to have a place for you all to gather with combustable materials?"

"Well," Julio stood up and passed the listing back to her. "We're never boring. I should go," he told them. "I need to get back."

"Of course." Sharon leaned her head back on the sofa. "Thank you for coming by, Julio. Tell everyone I will see them soon."

"I will," he told her. "We can't wait for you to get back. Really. We're counting the days."

Sharon laughed. She nodded to Andy who stood to walk him out. "Goodbye."

When Andy returned her head was still tipped back. Her eyes were closed. He sat down beside her and eased her over, until she was leaning against his side. "Do you want me to help you to the bed?"

"Hm." She shook her head. "No, I'm okay." She was tired, but it wasn't too bad. Sharon leaned her head against his shoulder with a smile. "I just can't believe that it's really over. I can't wait to tell Rusty. No more statements, or hearings, or trial. No more witness status. Just over." She curled both of her arms around his uninjured one with a sigh. "He told me once that when he grew up he was going to be a witness. That this trial would last the rest of his life. It almost did."

"Almost," Andy agreed. He tugged his arm out of her grasp and wrapped it around her. He turned his lips into her hair. "It didn't happen that way, though. You got him through it, that's all that matters."

Sharon tipped her head back. She smiled up at him. "You got me through it," she said. "I hope you know that." Even before they were together he was there for her. How often had he offered just to take her out for coffee so that she could have a moment away from the sulking teenager who kept trying to slip away from his security detail? How many times had he taken her to dinner, because she was too tired from dealing with Rios, and negotiating with Taylor, and didn't want Rusty to see the effect that it was having on her? He held her, the night that Rusty left to stay with Lieutenant Provenza because her home wasn't safe enough anymore. He let her cry all over his shirt, and he never mentioned it, he never questioned it. He was just a strong shoulder for her to lean on, a friend when she had needed one. When few others knew or understood what she was doing where Rusty was concerned, or what she was going through, Andy was quietly accepting. Even before she knew that she loved him, and even before she understood that he loved her, Andy was there when she needed him. She tipped her face up, let her lips brush his. "Thank you," she whispered.

His hand lifted to cup the back of her head. He held her in place for a moment. "Standing around, waiting for the pretty girl to need a hug, that's the easy part," he told her. He let his lips brush her cheek, and then the tip of her nose. "You did the rest."

"Maybe," she said. "But I wasn't alone." She lay her head against his shoulder again, lifted the paper in her hand. She held it out to him. "Let's go and see it," she said.

"I thought it was too big?" He took the paper from her, placed it on the incredibly small stack of properties that they actually wanted to see.

"It could be." She snuggled into his side. "Or it could be perfect." Sharon tucked her face against his neck. "We'll never know if we don't try." Something about it caught his attention, and it was more than the garage apartment that they could set up for Rusty. The future was wide open, and there was nothing standing in their way now. They'd made the choice, well before now, to move toward it together. That meant exploring all possibilities.

Sharon liked to believe that she was a realist. She was, in many ways, but she was also human. She had hopes, dreams, and wishes. There were wants, needs, and desires. She had passions, and she loved. She couldn't promise him forever. Not for lack of want. She couldn't even promise him the next thirty or forty years of her life, as she might not have it to give. This experience had taught her that. All that she could offer him was her heart.

All that she could promise either of them was to love him… as if tomorrow might never come.

~_FIN_


End file.
